


Don't Believe Everything You Think

by Anogete



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Chicago Blackhawks, F/M, Inspired by Music, Past Infidelity, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Romance, San Jose Sharks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-26 03:35:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 66,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12547936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anogete/pseuds/Anogete
Summary: Two years ago, Adam Burish broke Olivia's heart.  When she cut him out of her life, he ran away to Dallas.  Now his new contract with the Sharks and her forced relocation for work has them living in the same city again.  Adam is desperate to get her back, but Olivia is terrified that he hasn't changed.  All Adam can do is try to prove that now he deserves her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written and originally posted on Mibba in the fall of 2013. I've done some minor clean-up to it and am posting it here in an effort to gather all my work in one spot. It was originally over twenty chapters, but I've combined them into six so I don't blow up anyone's notifications. If you happen to be subscribed to me as an author and aren't familiar with hockey fic, I hope you'll give this a chance as just a good, old-fashioned romance.
> 
> The story jumps back and forth in time--beginning in the present (fall of 2012) and jumping back into time to 2010. The entire fic takes places over about 3 and a half years. Keep an eye on the notes before each chapter since they will clue you into the timeframe.
> 
> I'm not really a fan of country music, but Adam Burish is. With the help of a friend, I found songs that I actually enjoyed and that would fit with Adam and the original character I created for him (Liv). Songs mentioned in the fic are linked to YouTube in case you'd like to open another browser tab and listen while reading. Like I said, I don't like country much, but I do think the songs help bring the fic to life.
> 
> If you do give it a chance, I'd love to hear your thoughts on it via comment, e-mail (anogete527@yahoo.com), or Tumblr (anogete).
> 
> Oh, and here is Adam Burish, if you need a visual:
> 
>  

{Present Day, October 2012}

It was hanging there in the back of her closet just like she’d known it would be. A corner of the number seven on the back had come loose and needed to be mended. She’d worn it often, and it had gone through the washer to many times. But for the past two years it had been hanging, unworn, in the back of the closet. It stayed there behind her winter sweaters and skinny jeans that were one size too small, a reminder of the past that she couldn’t bear to look at on a daily basis.

“Liv, I’m going to miss you like crazy.”

Olivia turned around to see her best friend Andrea standing in the doorway with an empty box in her hand.

“I’m going to miss you, too. I can’t believe this is happening. Did I really accept a job in California?”

Andrea tossed the box into the floor and walked over to stand beside her. “You did, sweetcheeks. You’re leaving me here all by myself in Chi-town. Who’s going to raise hell with me?”

“You do a fine job on your own, Andy. I can’t wait for you to come visit me in San Jose.”

“At least I won’t have to pay for a hotel room,” Andrea said. Looking into the closet, she continued, “Do you need help with your clothes?”

Olivia squeezed her eyes shut, knowing that her friend would see the jersey hanging all by itself on the far end of the pole that spanned the length of the closet. “I’m done,” she said.

“I didn’t know you kept it,” Andrea replied. “You told me you threw it out.”

“I know. I wanted to, but I just couldn’t. I mean, I’ve had it since 2007. I couldn’t just... trash it.”

“You should have. He was an asshole.”

“I was in love with him,” Olivia countered.

Andrea moved to grab the Blackhawks jersey with the number thirty-seven stitched on the back.

“Just leave it, Andy. I’m not taking it with me. The new tenant can have a surprise.”

* * *

Abby Sharp always looked gorgeous, but she was especially radiant this morning when she walked into the restaurant. It was just a sunny little breakfast place tucked away in the suburbs. Tall windows let in plenty of light and the menu was heavy on crepes--their specialty. Abby was wearing a pair of dark orange capris and a white top with a sheer shirt over it. Little Madelyn was in the stroller that Abby was pushing down the aisle between the tables, and she was wearing an outfit that matched her mother’s.

Olivia felt like a dump with her jean shorts and T-shirt. Most of her clothes had been packed away and handed over to the movers who were already on their way to San Jose. The yellow shirt set off the blonde highlights in her long, brown hair, though. Their time with capris and shorts in Chicago was almost at an end. It was already October and the weather would turn toward the cold, wet side of things soon.

Abby had just got into town, and Olivia felt grateful she had a chance to see the woman before she left for San Jose. “Liv, you look great!” Abby said, stepping around the stroller to give her friend a hug. “I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“I think you look light years better than me. How’s little Maddie?” Liv bent down to tickle the little girl’s belly with her index finger. Maddie giggled and reached out to fist Liv’s shirt in her tiny hand.

Abby looked down and laughed as Liv tried to pull the fabric out of her grip. “She’s a handful nowadays. Even Pat can’t keep up with her.”

They both sat down at the table when the waitress came over to take their orders. This was their regular meet-up spot and they both always got the same thing. Liv ordered the fruit crepes and Abby ordered the oatmeal and toast.

“So, what’s this I hear about you moving?”

Liv sighed. “Yeah, for work. They laid off a bunch of people. I got lucky and kept my job, but they asked me to relocate to another office.”

“Wow,” Abby said, leaning over and picking up a toy Maddie had just thrown to the ground. “So, not much of a choice.”

“They were nice about it. They’re paying for my moving costs and made the arrangements for my apartment there. And I got a raise.”

“Where to? Are you going to be close enough to visit us?”

Liv took a long sip from her cup of black coffee before she answered. “Uh, San Jose.”

Abby’s eyes widened and her brows went up. “Serious? That’s weird.”

“Yeah, unintentional.”

“Are you going to call him?”

Liv shook her head. “No. I haven’t spoken to him in over two years. I don’t have anything to say, and I’m sure he doesn’t want to hear from me.”

Abby sat back in her chair. Her gaze made Liv shift uncomfortably. “I don’t know, Liv. He still asks Pat about you sometimes. How you’re doing and stuff.”

She felt her stomach drop to the floor and her heartbeat speed up. Liv hated that he still had that kind of hold on her. “I really didn’t need to know that, Abby.”

“Sorry,” Abby replied just as the waitress brought their food out.

They started eating in silence, neither woman knowing how to continue the conversation.

Finally, Abby cleared her throat. “I think he always regretted the way things happened, Liv.”

“Yeah, well, it happened. I’m over it. Moving on. San Jose is a big city. What are the chances of me running into one person in a million?”

“Pat might tell him.”

“Why would he do that? It’s none of Adam’s business where I am and what I’m doing.”

“Liv, they’re friends. The next time Adam asks about you, Pat will tell him the truth. What if he tries to call you?”

Olivia didn’t want to know that he asked about her, that he even thought about her. The only hard fact that she had clung onto all this time was that Adam Burish was an asshole who never loved her and only used her. She needed to believe that in order to say she was over him. Things were black and white. He was the bad guy, simple as that. “I’ll change my number,” Liv told her friend. “I don’t want to talk to him ever again.

* * *

She was standing in her new home--an empty apartment south of San Jose. The luggage that had come with her on the plane was piled by the door, but everything else was five hours away. At least according the moving company her office had hired, it was. A thunderstorm with flash floods had hit Nebraska just as her worldly possessions were being driven through, causing their ETA to be pushed back.

Pulling her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans, she dialed Andrea’s number.

“Are you safely in your new city?” her friend asked when she picked up.

“I am. My stuff is still somewhere in Nevada.”

“Is it gorgeous there?”

Liv looked out the living room windows. The place was a little much with all the Roman columns and replica fountains, but the palm trees looked nice against the cream buildings. A breeze ruffled the leaves of the trees and rippled the crystal clear water in the blue pool. She could see just the edge of it from her window. A couple people were lying out in the sun.

“It is. Palm trees and sunny skies and a huge pool that looks too good to even swim in.”

Andrea sighed. “Jealousy, baby. It’s overcast and in the fifties here. I think we’re going to have a shitty winter. You got out just in time.”

“Abby told me that he still asks about me,” Liv said. It had been on her mind for two days, and she couldn’t take it. The thought that he cared even a little bit was eating her alive, making her upset and angry and depressed.

Andrea was quiet for a moment. Finally, she said. “He doesn’t have any right, Liv. Don’t let that make you think he’s a good guy. I was there; he was an asshole.”

“I know.”

“I knew you should have thrown that jersey out.”

“Andy, I loved him.”

“I know, I know. How do you feel about him asking after you?”

Liv didn’t know how she felt. “Sick,” she told Andrea. “And pissed. And sad.” She paused before adding, “I still miss him.”

“You just need to find a sexy guy in San Jose. Maybe a surfer. Adam Burish is not hot shit. He’s just shit.”

Liv smiled. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Andy. I’m going to go check out the grounds and find something to eat while I wait for my stuff.”

“Do NOT call him, Liv.”

“Oh god, Andy. I’m not calling him. Trust me. I’ve had enough of that ride.”

* * *

Her office was a tiny room on the corner of the third floor. The building was in an office park on the outskirts of San Jose. A flat parking lot surrounded the hulking behemoth of concrete and glass that was where her career would grow and develop. Or at least she hoped that was what was in store. The pharmaceutical industry had been cracked down on by the government, and now sales reps like her were prevented from doing so much of what they once did to woo doctors. It was just bad news. Case in point was the massive layoff that had occurred right before she was given the "choice" to transfer.

"Thank you for everything, Janine," she told the older woman with the grey hair that was curled so tight against her head Liv wondered why she didn't have a headache. Janine was the office manager, and she'd helped arrange for everything Liv would need in her tiny, new office. This place was so different from Chicago, so different from everything she knew. Overwhelmed, she sat down at her desk when she was finally alone and carefully rearranged the pens in their cup by the phone.

She'd been in San Jose for a week. Everything was unpacked and put away in her apartment. She'd found the closest gas station, grocery store, and coffee shop to her place. Liv was looking forward to carving out her spot in this big, unusual city. If she made it in Chicago, then laid back San Jose should be a piece of cake. She just needed to get her list of doctors, make some calls, stop by some offices, ingratiate herself to these new people who would determine her success or failure, and get over the fact that she was in the same city as the biggest heartbreak of her life.

After spending the morning reading over the office procedures manual and signing all of the paperwork Janine has left in her inbox, she picked up her cell phone to check messages. Andrea had sent her a message earlier in the day, wishing her good luck. She had two unopened texts. Smiling, she opened the first, expecting to see Andy being Andy. Instead it was from Abby.

ABBY: I'm so sorry, Liv. I told him not to.

Nothing else, no explanation. Before she replied, she pulled up the other unopened message. She hadn't really looked at the sender, just assuming it was from Andrea. Andrea and Abby were the only contacts that began with A in her address book, and both messages were from A's. Except this one from was an A that she had chosen to ignore for the last two years.

ADAM: Can I see you?

Liv's heart dropped into her feet to join her stomach. No. The answer was a firm and emphatic NO he could not see her. But as much as his presumption that she'd even entertain the possibility made her angry, it hurt her too. She wanted to say yes and have him sweep her off her feet and confess his undying love while apologizing for the way things had ended. But this was not a fairy tale; this was real life where sometimes assholes seemed nice and cheaters were always cheaters, no matter how good they dressed it up and hid it.

* * *

{Present Day, October 2012}

"I'm going crazy, man. I want to dig in and get to know these guys and start the season. This lockout is killing me."

Sharpie laughed. "Stop bitching. You don't have to spend the time changing diapers and chasing Maddie. Either I'm going to kill myself or Abby's going to kill me. I brought home my gear after an informal practice yesterday, and she looked at me like murder was an option."

"You know you can pay people to do that, right?" Adam asked. He had a laundry service come in and pick up his stuff every week because he didn't own a washer or dryer and didn't intend to. It was money well spent in his opinion.

"You know Abby. She wants to stay grounded and do things ourselves and stuff."

Adam laughed. "You two are disgusting. You should fly out to Nashville next week. Meet me there for a concert. Bring Kaner and we'll try to get some good music into him."

"I thought you were ready to dig in and play some hockey."

Adam shrugged. "Who knows when this shit will end. A weekend in Nashville won't hurt."

"Abby wants to go spend some time at her parents if we're not playing. I don't think I can make it."

"Pussy whipped," Adam said, pulling the baseball cap down lower to shade his eyes from the bright California sun. He was sitting outside a Starbucks and drinking an iced coffee while he tried to figure out what he was going to do with the next week or month if this lockout actually turned into a thing. And it was looking like it was going to turn into a thing.

"Don't be jealous, Burr."

He wasn't jealous. Not really. He was having a good time, traveling, meeting women who wanted to have fun with him. Maybe he'd meet some surfer chicks in Cali now that he'd signed a four-year deal with the Sharks. He wasn't too far from the beach. The only thing that always tugged on the back of his mind was her. He hadn't asked Sharpie about her in a while. He didn't want to seem like a lovesick asshole. And he wasn't really. He was just curious.

"Hey, how's, uh, Olivia?" He always felt guilty asking, and he wouldn't dare ask Abby because he knew the two of them had grown close over the months that he'd carried on his relationship with Olivia Wollman. Liv.

Sharpie didn't answer right away. Instead, Adam could hear him shifting uncomfortably. Finally, Sharpie said, "She's good, I guess. Abby had breakfast with her last week. She, uh, moved for work."

Apparently, big things had happened in the past few months since he'd gotten an update from his former teammate. "Moved where?"

"Abby made me promise not to say."

His stomach twisted up in knots. "Why?"

"Because she's in San Jose."

Adam sat up in his chair and bent over to rest his forearms on his knees. "Here? Since when?"

"Since last week. Work transferred her there."

He felt light-headed, but he wasn't sure why. "And you weren't going to tell me?"

"Abby said not to, and you and Liv haven't talked in years. I didn't know it was important."

"Yeah, whatever. It's not really," Adam replied, sitting back in the chair again. He felt hazy and a little sick to his stomach. Liv was in San Jose. She was in this city, but he had no idea where. "Why did Abby tell you not to tell me?"

"She said Liv didn't want you to know."

Figures. She'd cut him out real fast when everything had gone down. He'd felt like shit for how it had happened, but he'd been young and stupid and high on all the things that saying you’re a Blackhawk can get you in Chicago--free drinks, adoration, and women. "You mean Liv doesn't want to talk to me."

"Uh, your words, not mine. Although, you're probably not far off. Someone brought your name up at Maddie's first birthday party and she walked off. Don't think you're her favorite person, Burr."

* * *

Despite the warning from Sharpie and his own common sense, he still pulled up her number in his contacts. He'd kept it all this time. Most women that he hooked up with got deleted when they got too clingy and started looking for a commitment. He'd given her the verbal commitment over two years ago when he’d thought he could handle it, but he hadn't followed through with his actions. Holding his breath, he touched her name and pulled up a text message screen typing out a request to see her. Short and sweet was probably best. She was a no nonsense kind of girl.

And then he'd waited all morning for a response. And all afternoon. And all evening. Nothing. He knew she'd received it and was ignoring it. He'd tried to talk to her right after she'd walked out of his apartment, but she'd never responded. Being ignored by Liv wasn't something that was new to him, but it had been years and he was different now. Or maybe he wasn't. All he knew is that he wished she would talk to him. It felt weird that she was living in the same city for the first time in a long time and he couldn't see her.

A woman he'd met two days ago at the beach texted him at nine o'clock, asking it he wanted to get a drink. Instead, he called Sharpie.

"Did she change her number?"

"What?" Sharpie asked.

"Liv. Did she change her number?"

"Shit, I don't know. Hold on." The phone rustled against fabric and then he heard his friend yelling out to Abby, relaying the question. A moment later he came back on the line. "No, same number. You called her, didn't you? Abby said you would. I'm in the doghouse because of you."

"I texted her. She didn't answer."

"She's done with you, Burr. Face the facts. You're not hurting for women; go find another one."

"I'm not looking for a hook up. We were friends or whatever. I thought she could get a drink with me and we could bury the hatchet."

Sharpie laughed under his breath. "Yeah, I don't think that's going to happen."

* * *

{Valentine's Day, February 2010}

The place was packed with everyone who didn’t have a date for Valentine’s Day. Those people were all having romantic dinners at upscale restaurants or ice skating in Millennium Park or some lame shit. Sharpie was with his fiance on the skydeck of the Willis Tower probably depositing some credit in the bank so when he was on road trips and she was home alone she wouldn’t give him so much shit. Having a girlfriend seemed like a lot of work, especially when you traveled so much for a living.

Adam liked to come to this particular club because they didn’t play hip-hop. Instead, they played country or the occasional classic rock that worked just as well. Jake Owen’s Eight Second Ride was blaring through the sound system, and Kaner was making a fool of himself with a cute redhead on the couch next to him. The V.I.P. area was packed, but the club had cleared out a large section when a group of the Blackhawks had walked in on one of their few nights off.

Versteeg leaned over and poked Adam in the ribs with his elbow. “She’s got her eyes on you, man,” he said.

Adam looked up and scanned the direction that Versteeg had indicated with a wave of his beer bottle. There was a girl perched on a tall chair at a table a few yards away. She was with two friends, and she was staring. When he caught her eye, she looked down at the table and then back up at her friends, nodding her head as she re-entered their conversation.

She was pretty--long brown hair with warm golden highlights. It was loosely curled with the sides pinned up to show her high cheekbones, straight nose, and pouty red lips. The place was too dark for him to make out her eyes, but he was sure they would knock him out. Her body was wrapped up in a form-fitting black dress with a scoop neck to show off her chest. One of her too-high heels was hooked in a rung of the chair she was sitting on.

The music had his adrenaline turned up, and looking at her made his blood run hot. Three single girls out on Valentine’s Day, and one of them was stealing glances at him. If he played his cards right, he’d get to unzip her dress and see what she had UNDERNEATH. Probably a great pair of tits and a landing strip right to her pussy. He wouldn’t mind confirming his suspicions sooner rather than later.

She glanced up again, trying to take a peek, not realizing that he was watching her. When he caught her, she quickly swept her gaze away. Even in the dark, he could swear she was blushing. She was done for because he’d already made up his mind. Obviously, she knew who he was, and he’d learned over the years that if you were a Blackhawk, you got anything you wanted. Look at goober Kaner over there who was going to score with a chick way out of his league.

Adam pushed out of the oversized armchair and took a circuitous route over to her table. He saw her look up again to where he’d been sitting and how her face fell when she saw he wasn’t there. Easy pickings, he thought. Which was a little surprising since she didn’t look like the type. Her dress was sexy, but classy. Her makeup wasn’t overdone. And she looked slightly out of place in the party atmosphere of the raucous club with one of the dirtier country songs blaring from the speakers.

Her two friends saw him before she did. Their eyes went wide, and one of them slid a hand across the table to touch hers, telling her something. Probably that a hockey player was behind her. Adam let the corners of his mouth turn up in a grin just as he laid a hand lightly on the small of her back.

“You’ve been watching me like you know me,” he said in her ear. She smelled good. Sweet and tangy. She’d probably taste just as good later tonight.

Her entire body tensed when she turned her head to see who was talking. She just stared at him with wide, innocent, chocolate brown eyes that were shaped like almonds.

“Mind telling me your name?” It was so loud he had to lean in close and let his breath ghost over her ear and neck. That worked just fine for him. Anything to speed things up. Maybe he’d have a Valentine after all.

“Um, Olivia.”

“Nice to meet you Olivia.” He picked her hand up off the table and brushed his lips over the back of it. A lot of the guys chirped him for shit like that, but it worked. The success rate for the back-of-the-hand kiss was pretty solid.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

“But I didn’t even introduce myself,” he said.

She blushed again, and he felt his dick harden. The idea of some sweet, little, innocent thing lusting after him was pretty potent. She wasn’t the usual mark, not a typical puck bunny.

“I have your jersey.”

His grin couldn’t possibly have gotten any bigger. “Mine?” he asked, raising his brows and giving her the most innocent eyes he could muster.

“Yours,” Olivia confirmed.

He grabbed a chair from the table beside them and sat it down right next to her, watching her friends smile and exchange knowing looks. Little Olivia must have a crush on the Blackhawks go-to agitator.

“So, what are you girls doing here tonight?”

Justin Moore’s Back That Thing Up was blasting out of the speakers now, and the three of them were all leaning in to hear his question, tits all over the table like a buffet. It was good to be a hockey player.

“Just having a good time,” the one with short, blonde hair said. She slid her eyes back over to Olivia, and Adam did the same.

“Do I call you Olivia or Liv?” he asked. The number one rule in picking up women was never be presumptuous. Be confident, but never presume anything.

“Um, Liv. My friends call me Liv.” Her voice was soft and magnetic, and he wanted more. As long as more was her screaming his name tonight.

So, he spent the next forty-five minutes working her. It was longer than he normally invested in securing a good time, but she seemed like she’d be different. He’d been having vanilla for so long that strawberry sounded nice, even if it took a little extra work.

Kaner and his redhead with the long legs were gone by the time Adam leaned into Liv and pressed his lips against her ear, asking if she wanted an escort home. She looked at her two friends who hadn’t heard his question, but probably assumed what he’d asked correctly.

“Umm, yeah. That’d be nice.”

Nice? It’d be fucking fantastic, he thought as he helped her down off the tall chair and smoothly slipped an arm around her waist as they left the club and walked toward the parking lot. She said she’d ridden with a friend, so he tucked her away in the passenger seat of his brand new pickup truck and zoomed her over to her place. It was a nice apartment in an upscale gated complex just outside of downtown Chicago. Either she came from money and daddy was footing the bill or she had a nice job.

Of course, she let him walk her in because they both wanted it. He could tell that she was vibrating with need, and far be it from Adam Burish to let a lady down when he had just what she needed.

As soon as she unlocked the door and stepped inside, he was on her. Hands on her waist and her chest pressed against the hallway wall. He kicked the door shut and hiked her skirt up with one hand while the other gathered her silky hair up so he could pepper kisses on the back of her neck. Her body was heaving with heavy breaths, and she felt so good--solid and sleek with just the right amount of curve to her hips.

When he let go of her, she turned around and slid her arms over his shoulders so she could wrap them around his neck. He moved in to kiss her for the first time, tasting her sweetness and the lime and cranberry that had been in the Cosmo she’d been drinking at the club. Her lips were soft and giving, her tongue tentative at first, but then almost forceful or desperate. She wanted this so bad, and if he hadn’t already been hard then the passion coming off her in waves would have galvanized him.

His hands fumbled at the back of her dress as he found and pulled down the zipper. She helped him pull the dress off and push it down her body, over her hips so it could pool in the floor at her feet. A black push-up bra and a pair of lacy black panties were set off well by her black fuck-me heels. Her body was made for sex, and he felt like he’d hit the jackpot. She’d wanted him before he’d even said a word to her, and that was a powerful aphrodisiac. 

“Where’s your bed, Olivia?” he whispered in her ear.

“Down the hall, to the right,” she whispered, trying to kiss him again.

Adam pulled his head back and held up a finger. “Show me.”

Liv moved to take her heels off, but he stopped her.

“Keep them on. Where’s your bed?”

Adam watched her walk down the hall, the way her hips swung from side to side and the taunt muscles of her calves pushed up and toned by those high heels. Her round ass was encased in the lace of the panties while her hair cascaded down her back.

By the time she walked into her bedroom, he couldn’t stand it any longer. He tipped her onto the satin duvet and unbuckled his belt while he stood over her at the foot of the bed. Her hands were cupping her tits, and he was throbbing for her. His shirt went over his head, and then he kicked off his shoes and slipped the condom out of his pocket before he let his pants drop.

“Take your panties off for me,” he said, his voice rough.

She obeyed, hooking her fingers into the sides and lifting her hips and thighs up to drag them down her legs. They got hooked on her heels and Adam stepped up to pull them off, looking down at her glistening pussy. She was already wet for him. He could smell her on the panties in his hand. Pushing down his boxers and tearing open the wrapper on the condom, he knelt on the bed between her legs.

“You haven’t said my name yet,” he told her. “But I’m about to fix that.” His hands shook just a bit with anticipation as he rolled the condom over his cock and positioned himself at her entrance.

Her eyes were wide and her body tense, waiting for him to make the first move. When he didn’t, she shifted her hips and brushed the head of his cock. “Adam, please.”

So, she did know his name after all. He grabbed himself and slid inside her, enjoying how hot she was, how easily he entered. She’d been ready for him since before they left the club, that much was obvious.

Adam laid his body over hers, enjoying the softness of her skin, the way she arched into him, begging him with little wordless noises and breathy moans. He lasted longer than he thought he would, but eventually it became too much. He rubbed her clit, soft at first and then harder and faster before reverting to something more gentle. She screamed his name when she came. It was only then that he let himself go, roaring with the pent up tension in his body, letting it all go as he pumped into her.

When he woke up in the morning, she was still sleeping. Her hair splayed out across her pillow and the sheet wrapped around her warm body. He slipped on his clothes as quietly as he could and then stood in the doorway and watched her chest move up and down with each breath. She was beautiful and there was just something about her that made him feel like they weren’t done. It was a weird feeling, not one he was used to. So, he snuck into her kitchen and found a black permanent marker.

Just like she’d said, the jersey with his number on it was hanging in her closet. In the dark, he scribbled his signature on the seven and put his phone number right below. And then he slipped out of her apartment and drove home right as the sky turned from a dusty blue to a blushing pink.

* * *

{Present Day, October 2012}

"He called you," Abby said instead of saying hello.

"Text."

"I told Pat not to say anything, and I told him to tell Adam not to contact you when he did the exact opposite of what I said and spilled the beans."

"Abby, it's okay. I'll live."

"What are you going to do?"

Liv looked across the empty expanse of her new desk. There was an in/out box on the far corner, a keyboard, mouse and monitor, and a little carousel with pens, paper clips, and post-it notes. It looked sterile and empty, which was exactly how her life felt at the moment. Calling up Adam and having a familiar face was tempting.

"I’m going to ignore him."

Abby sighed, and in the lull of conversation Liv heard Maddie talking away, nonsense flying out of her cute little mouth like it actually meant something. "Do you think you'll ever talk to him again?"

Liv shook her head. "No. I can't. I don't want to get into that again."

"I'll tell Pat to ask him to knock it off."

"Thanks, Abby. Sorry I'm putting you in the middle."

Abby's smile could be heard in her voice. "Don't worry, Liv. This is all Pat's fault anyway. He shouldn't have said anything."

* * *

It had been three days, and she’d been strong and not responded. The lockout was all over the news, and she wondered if he was even in San Jose. He had just inked the deal with the Sharks and didn't really have any reason to be in the city until the season actually started. She kept telling herself that to make it easier. A blip on the radar after two years of radio silence was just so hard to ignore.

The coffee shop wasn't busy on a Saturday morning, so she'd set up her laptop at a table in the back corner and answered a couple e-mails from her parents in Michigan and a couple former co-workers who had been transferred out to offices in Cincinnati and Atlanta.

Never mind Adam Burish and his minuscule text asking to see her; life was in upheaval even beforehand. She hadn't really wanted to move and lose her life. The people she'd worked with for years were scattered all over the place. Her mom had cried when Liv had told her she'd be moving so far away for a job that was still no guarantee. If she didn't perform, didn't get the sales they were projecting, then she was out and the next best thing would be given a chance. The pressure was immense, and she was still sitting there thinking about him and when they'd first met. Not the night at the club when he'd taken her home, but the first time they'd really gotten a taste of each other outside the sex.

Remembering was bittersweet and just made her chest ache.

Her phone vibrated and she pulled it out of her pocket. Another text from an A. But not an Andrea or an Abby. This one was from the A that had been blacklisted. Her throat closed up a little.

ADAM: Please don't ignore me, Livvy love.

She pressed the button on the side to black out the screen and shoved the phone deep in her purse. He had no right to use that nickname. Not ever again. Her stomach was in knots, and she felt like she had a weight on her chest, pressing down on her delicate lungs.

* * *

{Mid-February 2010}

She'd woken the next morning, assuming it was all a dream. She hadn't really run into Adam Burish at a club. She hadn't really let him take her home. She hadn't really had sex with him on her bed. And it was easy to believe when she woke up and nothing was out of place in the apartment. Nothing other than her body, sprawled across the bed, her panties lying in the floor, and her push-up bra still on and terribly uncomfortable by now.

There were five messages on her phone, all from Andrea. They were in capital letters and demanding information on whether she'd let Adam Burish walk her to her door or to her bedroom. The most recent one was from just a few minutes ago, asking if she was okay. She called Andy before she even got out of bed.

"Holy shit, Liv," Andy said when she picked up.

"I might have had sex with him," Liv replied. "He made me leave my heels on."

Andy squealed. "Holy shit!" she repeated. "Was it the best night ever?"

"Pretty damn good. He's so hot. I can't even think about it or my brain shorts out."

"So, did he leave a note or anything?"

Liv sat up and looked around. There was nothing on the bed or nightstand. He must have creeped out after she fell asleep. She tried not to feel disappointment; she'd known it was a one-night thing when he'd asked her if she wanted him to take her home. He was notorious for parties and women, and she assumed she was no different than all the ones before her. She'd accepted his offer anyway because she'd had a crush on him for years, and you didn't turn down a fantasy like that when it fell in your lap.

"No. I don't think it was that kind of night," she told Andy.

"You regret it?"

"No," Liv said. "It was a good time. I touched the flame and survived."

It wasn't until two days later when she was putting away her laundry that she fingered the sleeve of his jersey as she thought about the whirlwind Saturday night. The jersey was three years old and had seen better days since she'd often slept in it as well as worn it on game days. Regardless, she hadn't remembered getting black smudges across the numbers on the back.

Liv brushed at the fabric and when the mark didn't come off, she pulled the jersey off the hanger and took it into the bedroom to inspect. It wasn't until she'd laid it out on the bed that the signature registered. His signature all over the white seven. Right below were cramped digits that would only translate into a phone number.

"Oh my god," she'd muttered, lifting up the jersey and looking closer. Sure enough, he'd signed it and left her a phone number. Whether it was a joke or his actual number was to be determined.

She'd called Andrea and told her what she'd found hidden in the closet. Andy, of course, demanded she call the number and figure out if was a little more than a one-night-stand or not.

It took two more days to get up the nerve and when she did, she got voicemail. It was a pre-recorded one--no name, just a robotic voice telling her that the person at the number couldn't be reached and please leave a message. She was almost grateful because she'd rehearsed the message she wanted to leave.

"You defaced my jersey, and you owe me a replacement." After she said that, she left her phone number, but no name. If he'd done this trick with a bunch of different girls, then he probably wouldn't call back because he wouldn't know which one left the voicemail. There was also the off chance that the number wasn't even his, that he was just playing games by leaving a fake one.

Her fears turned out to be for nothing because he called back later that day, his easy voice unmistakable over the phone. "Hi, Olivia," he said.

"Hi," she barely managed to choke out.

"I'll replace the jersey if you meet me for drinks."

Were your mid-twenties too early to be having hot flashes? Because she was sure she was in the grip of one right now. "I thought you were a love 'em and leave 'em kind of guy," she replied.

"You've got my attention. What do you say? Tomorrow night?"

She'd been unable to resist. They’d made plans to meet at a bar downtown. Not one of the popular, trendy ones, but an out-of-the-way place. She'd never been there before, and she half-thought he wouldn't show. But when she walked through the door to the twang of country music and the sound of beer bottles hitting the bar top, she saw his unmistakable ass in snug blue jeans. He was leaning on the rail of the bar between two stools, and he had a bottle of beer in front of him. The bartender was having him sign a napkin, and Adam looked like he was happy to oblige a fan.

The place wasn't too crowded and there were only a couple other people sitting at the L-shaped bar. She'd come straight from the office, and Liv felt out of place in her work clothes--a grey skirt suit with a blue satin shell that gave her a pop of color. Everyone else in the place was casual and in jeans.

"Hi," she said walking up to stand behind and just to the right of him.

When he turned around, she almost fell over. Adam Burish standing in front of her with his careless hair pushed back from his face and his shirt tucked into those jeans was a thing to behold. Even though she'd had sex with him, she still felt weird actually seeing him in person, not even two feet away. This kind of thing didn't happen to girls like her.

"Hi, sweetheart," he said warmly, flashing her a smile and patting the stool next to him. "Can I buy you a drink?"

She scooted up on the stool. "A Cosmo?"

The bartender, a burly man with a full beard and a Harley T-shirt, gave her a stern look. Adam just laughed and said, "Not that kind of bar."

"Beer then. You pick," she replied, her cheeks flushed.

The bartender popped the cap off a cold beer and sat it down in front of her. She sipped at it and watched Adam turn his body into her. He was still standing between her stool and the next, leaning on the railing. He was overwhelming with the closeness and sex appeal.

"You look like you came from work."

Liv nodded.

"What do you do?" She tried to hide her surprise. She'd thought this was a booty call--a meet-up in a bar so he could get her back to her apartment and in bed again. She wouldn't have complained at all, even if the girly side of her brain wanted him to sweep her off her feet.

"I'm a sales rep for a pharmaceutical company."

"Oh, wow. That's great."

She looked at him through her lashes like the indirect gaze would make him less irresistible. It didn't. "You sound surprised."

Adam chuckled and leaned in a little closer. "I am. And I'm intrigued." His chest brushed against her arm and the slight contact through clothing sent a zap of electricity right between her legs.

"What's a nice girl like me doing in a bar like this with a hockey player like you?" she asked, trying to build up her courage. He'd taken her home, and he'd even called her back, so he liked her. She needed to stop being so damn nervous.

He threw his head back and laughed. It was a rich, warm laugh that she wanted to hear again and again. "Exactly," he told her.

Liv felt her heart beating hard in her chest because, really, she'd always thought he wouldn't live up to her mental idea of what he was like and how much fun he'd be. But the truth of the matter was that he was everything and more. All of it was turned on and directed right at her. 

"I like country boys from Wisconsin who know how to show a city girl a good time," Liv said. She just wanted to hear him laugh again, even if it was at how ridiculous she sounded.

And he did laugh, the corners of his eyes all pinched up from the grin on his face. "Sweetheart, I'm all yours. You just tell me what you need." 

It turned out what she needed was another night with him in her bed. After a couple hours talking over the pleasant drone of the music in the country bar, he took her home early. The clock on the dash of his truck read eight thirty-two when he pulled into a parking spot right in front of her building. She watched him open the door for her, and usher her inside so she could unlock the door to her unit.

They slipped into the dark apartment, feeling the vent blowing warm air on them, and he settled his hands on her hips. She trembled as he moved in to kiss her.

“I’m so glad you called me,” he whispered against her cheek before sliding his tongue between her lips.

When he pulled back, her chest was heaving with the effort of trying to breathe. Memories of the first time he’d been here flooded back, and all she could think about was how good he had felt. The way his muscles moved beneath his skin when he held himself up over her. The way his hot mouth felt tattooing her skin--her chest and collarbone and nipples--with his kisses while he fucked her so slowly and so deeply that she couldn’t even pull in a breath of air.

Now she had him for another night, which was completely unexpected. She thought back to the morning after when she’d just been thankful for the first taste. “I’ve had a crush on you for years. This is so weird,” she admitted.

“Sweetheart, I wish I would have known. You should have come up to the glass and demanded I come over and say hi. I would have noticed you.” His rough voice rumbled through her body, his mouth on her neck. Liv felt like one big goose bump. Or one big, aching clit that needed him to stroke her.

They ripped each others clothes off and stumbled down the hall to the familiar bedroom where he slipped on a condom and made her remember why the first night with him was the best sex of her life. Except maybe now it had been usurped by this night and the way he moved against her and the way he rolled her on top so she could ride him, his little comments urging her on, telling her how good she felt.

Liv had never felt so wanted and so powerful as when she was straddling his waist, looking down at the masculine line of his neck as he threw his head back in pleasure.

When they’d finished, he’d kissed her forehead and pulled on his clothes. “I’ll call you,” he whispered in her ear when he leaned over to say goodnight. Liv hadn’t really thought he was telling the truth.


	2. Chapter 2

{Present Day, Early April 2013}

She hadn’t answered him at all. Five long months and she’d stayed silent, even though he’d pulled out the only weapon he really had--the nickname he’d called her by. Livvy love. He’d never been able to tell her he loved her; the words always got stuck in his throat, but he hoped that she understand when he called her by that name that he was saying he loved her in his own way.

Adam had been sure the nickname would have elicited a response, something, anything. Even a fuck off would have been better than silence because he was constantly checking his phone.

He’d met and dated a girl named Kristen for a couple months--over the holidays and into the New Year. Blonde. Wanna-be model. She was fun, but high-maintenance and not really what he was looking for. He’d wanted someone who would replace Liv, and it was becoming pretty obvious no one could replace her, which was depressing.

After she’d left him, he had signed the deal with Dallas and ran back home to Madison for a good part of the summer. He’d told himself that it was for the best because she had a good career, and he couldn’t have asked her to move for his sorry ass. She was better than that, worth more than being his plus one.

But even though he was hundreds of miles away, he couldn’t give her up completely. He’d reached out to her one night right after he’d moved into his place in Dallas, but she’d never responded. He’d given up, relying on Sharpie to update him on her life. Every time he asked about her, he had that pit of fear his stomach that Sharpie would come back and say that she found someone, that she was engaged. Adam didn’t know how he’d be able to handle knowing that someone else had her, even though he knew one day that fear was going to come true.

He’d met a woman at a bar by the beach. Her name was Theresa, and she’d been pretty persistent about meeting him for drinks, even after he put her off for over a week. Finally, he caved one evening and agreed to meet her at a trendy place in Los Gatos. He was just getting to know the city and almost got lost on the way there.

Theresa was pretty--long brown hair and a bow for a smile. She looked a little like Liv, and that was his undoing when he sat down at the table across from her. She was definitely on the search for a good time, so he took her back to her place and stripped her clothes off. And then he closed his eyes and settled himself between her legs, slipping up inside her with ease.

The whole time his mind was on Liv and his memories of how she’d felt. He’d had her so many times over the course of those months they were together, but each one was precious now because it would never happen again.

“Oh, god, Liv,” he murmured under his breath when he felt that tightening sensation in his balls.

“What?” Her voice was a breathy whisper that barely got through the haze of his mind.

“Liv. Don’t stop,” he said. And then he realized his mistake. This wasn’t Liv; it was just some girl who had agreed to take him home. He wondered if she even knew he played hockey, that he was the new forward for the Sharks. Probably not. She just wanted to get off.

“What the fuck?” she hissed, hitting his chest with the heels of her hands. He jerked back and pulled out, his dick protesting all the way because he hadn’t come yet.

Before he could roll over, she was moving away from him and wrapping the sheet around her body. “Sorry,” he mumbled, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, facing away from her.

“Yeah, not my fucking name,” Theresa snapped at him.

“I know,” Adam replied, hunching his shoulders over and reaching down to pick his pants up off the floor. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Obviously not. You should leave.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I’m gone.” He pulled his shirt over his head right as he opened her front door and left.

After he slid into his truck, he dropped his forehead onto the steering wheel. He hadn’t felt this bad in a long time. The past few years had been lived in denial, and now she was sharing a city with him again and it was almost unbearable because all he could do was think of everything that had been right about them. Before he fucked it all up on the night that should have been one of the happiest of his life.

He drove home, which was really just a half-empty apartment in a building near the arena, something temporary that had been suggested to him by the Sharks management. It was cold and sterile and sad. The only thing on the wall was a signed guitar from a Toby Keith concert. Everything else was miles of white walls and beige carpet and loneliness. He wondered where she was living, what she was doing.

Adam flipped on the too-expensive iPod dock he’d ordered, pulled up the new Blake Shelton album, and just let it play while he sat on the couch and wondered why he’d fucked up so bad and called Theresa by Liv’s name. He’d never done that before, not with any of the women--and there were many--that he’d spent time with. There was a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen. It had been a gift from someone in the Sharks organization; he couldn’t remember who, but it was expensive and it was smooth as he splashed a couple fingers into a glass and sipped.

Halfway through the album, a soft ballad came on. He could tell it was one of those that built up into a sweeping chorus, but the first verse really tugged at his heart. It was just one of those moments that the right song hit you at the right time. Usually those moments were at concerts where he was having a good time, and the song was about a woman in cut-off blue jeans who wanted to have sex on a tailgate. This time it was this song, alone in his apartment, and it gutted him with its talk of love and regret.

He’d started on his second glass of whiskey and the buzz was veering him deeper into regret and shame. He felt desperate, grasping at straws, trying to find a way to get a response from Liv. He’d done so well for two years, and now it was all going to hell because she was here, infiltrating his life, but not talking to him.

The song was killing him. He almost got up and turned it off, and then he thought better of it. Might as well let it sit and burn. He had a bottle of whiskey and a heartache. This was character-building, or at least that’s what he told himself to get through.

When the song ended and the next started, he pulled up the YouTube application on his phone and searched for it. The share button at the top opened a blank email so he could type the first letter of her address. The entire thing popped right up like he’d never stopped sending her messages, never stopped telling her about the road trips and what prank he and Sharpie had played on Kaner and Tazer while they were bored in the hotel between games, while he was desperate to get back to her.

He left the subject line blank, but in the text of the e-mail right above the link to the song, he wrote: _I FUCKING HATE MYSELF FOR WHAT I DID, LIVVY LOVE. PLEASE TALK TO ME._

And then he hit send and dumped the rest of the whiskey in his glass down the kitchen sink before he crawled into his empty, unmade bed.

* * *

{Olympics Break, February 2010}

She probably assumed he wouldn’t call. Adam knew he had a reputation for being a ladies man who was rarely seen more than once or twice with the same woman, but he had every intention of calling her, and he did so less than twenty-four hours later while he was sitting in Sharpie’s living room with three other guys watching Olympic hockey.

“Hello?” she said, her sweet voice sounding a bit breathless. He hoped he’d made her feel that way.

“Hey, sweetheart. It’s Adam. How was your Friday?”

“Long. Fridays are always slow.”

“You been watching the Olympics?” he asked, turning his back on the guys and focusing on her voice. 

“Watching right now. I hope you’re rooting for USA.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, grinning. “I’m over here with Sharpie. He’s hurting ‘cause he knows Canada’s just our little sister, and we’re messing with her. Stealing hockey and now we’ll be stealing Gold.”

Liv laughed, the sound musical and light. “I’ll, uh, let you go then if you’re with friends.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

She laughed again, this time nervously. “Not at all. I just don’t want to spoil boys night.”

“You’re not spoiling anything. I called you. You’re a lot cuter than any of the guys here.” Adam glanced over his shoulder and saw Sharpie watching him. His friend lifted an eyebrow, and Adam turned back around. They didn’t need to know all about his personal business. He’d just get chirped for getting wrapped up in a girl.

“I’d hope so. Unless you’re thinking about batting for the other team."

Adam laughed softly, hunched over his phone for privacy. “Never, sweetheart. I like women too much.”

"I'm surprised you called me. Thought you were just having fun." Liv sounded like she was fishing for information, or rather, confirmation that he wasn't in the least bit serious about her.

"Were you just having fun?" he asked.

When she didn’t answer right away, he said her name, asking if she was still there. "I am. Just thinking about how I want to answer that since I'm at a disadvantage."

"What disadvantage?"

"You're a famous hockey player, and you know I have a crush on you. I'm pretty sure every girl you've gone home with has wanted more than fun from you, and I'm pretty sure you know that."

Damn. He was getting called out. He moved down the hall and into the spare bedroom. "Not true. There are a lot of women who just want a night. Are you one?"

"Obviously not since you've been here twice."

He cleared his throat. "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Cleaning my kitchen?"

Oh, he could show her a better time than that. A woman like her didn’t need to be spending her Saturday doing anything but enjoying herself with him. "How about you spend the day with me?"

When she replied, she sounded like she was smiling. "You don't actually think I'm going to say no, right?"

His grin was from ear to ear. He felt like he was sixteen again. "I'll pick you up at nine."

"In the morning?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"You're serious about this all day thing?"

"I am. Wear something comfortable and warm. Nothing fancy."

* * *

{Present Day, Early April 2013}

It killed him that she hadn't called him after she'd gotten the e-mail. Nothing had been returned as undeliverable, so he assumed the address was still correct.

Two days later, he called Sharpie and asked for his wife.

"Why do you want to talk to Abby?" Sharpie asked, suspicious of Adam's motives.

"Just hand her the phone, you clown. I know you're following her around like a little puppy."

"What goes around comes around, Burr. I'll make sure to point it out the next time you're following after some girl like she's got you on a leash." That said, Sharpie handed the phone to his wife.

"What's up, Adam?" Abby's voice was sweet, but also suspicious.

"Look, I know you're going to tell me to get lost, but can you please talk to Liv?"

"I talk to Liv almost once a week. Never stopped talking to her."

He sighed. She was being obtuse on purpose. "Talk to her about me. Ask her to call me."

"Not my place, Adam. You made your bed, now you get to lie in it."

"Abby, come on. Just... I don't know. Tell her that I called you, and I'm sorry, and I want to apologize in person because I never got the chance. For closure."

"You don't want closure. You want her back."

Adam ran a hand roughly through his hair. She was probably right. He did want her back, but he wasn't willing to admit that to anyone yet. "I want her to not hate me."

Abby sighed heavily. "Adam, she's trying to move on with her life. She never really got over you."

"I never really got over her."

"But you're the one who..."

"I know," he snapped, cutting her off. "I know. I remember. I'd take it back if I could. I'd give pretty much anything to take it back, but I can't."

"I'll tell her you called me, but I'm not going to plead your case."

"Abby, look, tell her I'll be at the San Jose Rose Garden on Naglee at two o'clock in the afternoon on Sunday. Tell her it'd be nice if she'd come see me, no pressure. Tell her we don't even have to talk. Not one word if she doesn't want to. Okay?"

"Okay. I'll tell her. No promises, though. She's pretty anti-you."

* * *

{Olympics Break, February 2010}

He’d picked her up at nine o’clock just like he’d said, and when he started driving west on Interstate Eighty, she’d questioned what he had in mind. “Just getting us out of town. Spend some time alone. I miss the wide open,” he’d told her.

So she’d let go, decided to just have fun and let him direct things. Who was she to complain that Adam Burish wanted to spend the day all alone with her? She’d fantasized about it enough to know when not to look a gift horse in the mouth. He was in a pair of jeans that were snug around his thighs. Snug enough that she had a hard time not looking down to check out his crotch. His was in a long-sleeve knit shirt with a V-neck and a puffy black jacket. The jacket was lying in the seat between them with her white peacoat on top of it. She’d opted for jeans and a fuzzy light green sweater that was probably a size too small. She wanted to give him something to look at, though.

And he was certainly looking, his eyes glancing over at her more and more often after they got out of the heavy traffic around Chicago. He had a country station on and they were playing Eric Church’s Hell on the Heart. The volume was up just enough to enjoy the music without impeding conversation, and Liv was impressed at how absolutely effortless Adam made everything seem, from picking her up that first night to his prowess in bed to knowing not to turn the music up so loud she couldn’t tell him how amazing he looked.

But he beat her to that, too. 

“You’ve got my blood pressure up with that little sweater,” he said before she could open her mouth and compliment how he looked even better in person.

“Should I take it off?” she asked with a grin and a sideways glance at his profile.

Adam didn’t take his eyes off the road, but he did say, “Sweetheart, we’ll have to pull over if you do.”

Liv laughed and reached to turn the volume up. Billy Currington was singing about how everything his girl does turns him on, and it was one of her favorite songs. “I love this song,” she said.

The corner of his mouth curved up, and she knew she was in trouble because now he wasn’t just a shadow that came into her bedroom after the sun set to screw her silly. He was real and solid, and he was driving her out of town on a Saturday morning. He looked so damn pleased to be there with her in the cab of his truck. It was a heady feeling.

After a couple hours traveling west, he pulled off the interstate on a no-name exit and turned into the dirt parking lot of a burger joint. They went inside and ate lunch while he drove her crazy with his leg pressed against hers under the table.

When they'd finished eating, he backtracked east and got off in Utica. She watched signs for Starved Rock State Park whiz by, and then they were in a wooded area and he was ignoring all the signs that said vehicles weren't allowed so he could pull up next to a trailhead.

Twenty minutes later found her climbing a steep hill and taking his outstretched hand when she needed a little extra help. "It's a climb, but it's worth it. I want to show you something," he said. 

He was right; it was worth it. When they got to the top, he turned her around so she could look out over the wilderness, the rolling hills and pines and the top of a half-frozen waterfall. "Adam, this is gorgeous," she whispered, taking it all in. "I feel ashamed that I'm from Chicago and I've never been out here before."

When she turned around, he was sitting on a wide, flat rock just behind her. The climb had warmed her, and the unseasonably nice February day was pleasant. She sat down right next to him. 

"I like to come here by myself when things are hectic. Helps me... settle myself."

“Settle. I like that. It... fits. I'll have to remember how to get back so I can do the same."

Adam leaned back until he was lying on the rock. "Call me and I'll bring you."

"You bring all your conquests here?" she asked in a teasing voice as she laid herself down beside him, their hands just an inch from touching.

"I've never brought anyone here before." His admission caught her off guard and surprised her with how serious he sounded.

Liv turned on her side to face him. "Well, thank you for bringing me."

Adam flipped so he was on his side too. "Why did you let me take you home that first night?" he asked.

She bit her lower lip and thought about a nice-sounding lie. Instead, she told him the truth. "Because I've had a crush on you for years, and you looked really good and you smelled nice. And you smiled at me like I could be the center of your attention for a little while.” His eyes were fantastic and they were focused on her so hard she almost didn’t get out her question. “Why did you take me home?"

He grinned, one side of his mouth lifting up more than the other. "Because you're gorgeous, and I wanted to get you out of your dress."

Liv laughed and dropped her forehead to press against his shoulder. "Such a guy."

"Hey, it's the truth. But I left you my number because I felt like you weren't finished with me yet."

“I wasn’t finished with YOU?”

His fingertips were underneath her chin, guiding her head up so he could lean in and kiss her. “Mmm hmm,” he murmured in agreement before his lips brushed lightly over her own. Her hands were on the back of his head, fingers threaded through his hair, and he was rolling to hold himself up halfway on top of her while they made out like two teenagers who had escaped at camp.

After way too many minutes rolling around on a rock with him in weather just above freezing, he nuzzled his face into her neck. “If it wasn’t so cold, I’d be trying to take these jeans off you.”

Liv’s hands were on his back, underneath his puffy black coat. She ran her nails lightly down his spine, feeling his muscles shift as he shivered, hopefully in pleasure. “I’d probably let you either way.”

He chuckled, his hot breath felt good on her exposed neck. When he lifted himself up enough to look down at her, he tweaked her nose. “You’ve got a red nose. You’ll get sick if I don’t get you warmed up.”

The hike back down the hillside was easier, but they were greeted by a park ranger at the truck. He was sticking a ticket on Adam’s windshield. Liv tried to keep her giggles at bay while Adam made up an elaborate excuse as to why he’d ignored the signs. The park ranger wasn’t buying it though, handing the ticket over and telling them to park the truck in an approved area. As the man was pulling off, Liv looked over to Adam and bursted into laughter. He, in turn, bent over in a laugh so full it came from his belly.

When they left the trailhead, he pulled into one of the little parking lots and turned up the radio so they could listen to music and talk. Adam Burish actually spent over three hours talking to her, his arm around her shoulders in the cab of his truck. It was glorious and refreshing and so easy to open up because, despite the fact that he’d been her go-to hockey crush, he was really just a normal guy who liked country music, beer, sports, and pretty girls. He just looked better than any normal guy she’d been on a date with. Or maybe that was just her hockey obsession talking.

When it got dark, they ended up at a small table in a winery that served dinner during their wine tastings. It wasn’t far from the state park, and the place was gorgeous--all rustic tree trunks for pillars and beams to hold the large dining room together. They normally required reservations, but Adam had no problem dropping his name and getting them a private table where she could fill her empty stomach and watch him look at each new glass of wine with suspicion. It was cute and endearing, and she felt like she was already in too deep.

By the time they left the winery, it was snowing lightly and the ground was covered with powder. “It’s only a little line of snow,” she told him, looking at the radar on her weather app.

Adam opened her door and took her hand to help her in. “Could always get worse,” he told her. “Looks like I might have to kidnap you for the night. Wouldn’t want to drive back in such bad weather.” He shut her door, and Liv tried to keep her heart from pounding out of her chest. The weather wasn’t bad; she’d driven home in much worse, but if he wanted an excuse to spend the night with her, then she wasn’t about to take it away.

They ended up back at the Starved Rock Lodge. He took her inside to the office and stood behind her, his arms wrapped around her while they waited for the desk attendant to come out of the back office.

“I’m not keeping you from anything, am I?” he asked softly in her ear.

She thought about teasing him and making up an elaborate plan that he’d ruined by taking her out of Chicago, but she didn’t. She just looked down at the way her fingers were laced with his just under her breasts and said, “Nothing at all.”

The clerk was a woman in her sixties with greying blonde hair that was pulled into a low ponytail. Glasses sat low on her nose, and it was obvious she recognized Adam. “You finally get yourself a nice girl?”

“If she’ll have me,” he told the woman. Her name tag said she was Effie.

“What’s your name, honey?” she asked Liv.

Liv raised her brows. “Uh, Olivia.”

“You straighten this boy out, Olivia.”

Liv laughed softly and looked back at Adam. “I don’t know if that’s possible.”

Without him having to ask, Effie slid a key across the desk and told him it was on the house. "Thanks, Effie," he said, giving her a wink.

"You know her?" Liv asked as they walked out of the Lodge and got back in his truck.

"Sometimes I'll spend a night or two out here when I want to get away."

Liv poked him in the side. "Is this your secret love nest?"

He grabbed her arm and pulled her across the bench seat until she was right next to him. "No. I've never brought a girl here before. That's why Effie asked about you. She's a Blackhawks fan, and she thinks I need a good influence in my life."

She wasn't sure how to respond to that. What made her so special that he wanted to spend the night with her in this place? Adam pulled the truck up in front of a stand-alone cabin. It wasn't huge, but it was quaint and well-kept.

"This is my usual place," he told her. "I always try to get this one if I come out here."

They walked inside and in a matter of a second, he had her backed up against the cabin door that he'd just closed behind her. She didn't even get a chance to see the interior of the cabin because he was kissing her, his mouth desperate and hot. Liv slipped her hands over his shoulders and underneath the coat, pushing it off his body. He did the same to hers.

"This little sweater is driving me crazy," he said, palming her breasts over the fuzzy fabric. "Can I take it off?"

Liv laughed. "I don't think you have to ask my permission anymore."

* * *

{Present Day, Early April 2013}

She'd gotten his e-mail a few minutes after he’d sent it. She'd been lying in bed, watching reruns of Sex and the City when she noticed the light on her phone blinking to indicate a message. It had been a bad day. Work was hard; she was making her way, but it was a struggle most of the time. There was a dinner--a work function--soon and she didn't have a date. She'd gone out with two guys since she'd moved to San Jose. Neither of them had been worth a second date.

The shock of moving and settling in and starting the next chapter in her career had worn off, and now she was just lonely. Andrea had delayed her visit indefinitely since she and her fiance were helping his parents with their startup business. She picked up her phone, hoping it was a friend who wanted to talk because she was feeling pretty down.

Instead, Liv saw the blank subject line and his name. She almost deleted it without opening it, but curiosity and memories got the best of her. When they had been good together, they had been so good. Their first real date to Starved Rock State Park had been one of the best days of her life. She couldn't have asked for anything more perfect or a better person to spend the day and night with. They'd christened the bed and then the shower before they'd fallen asleep, exhausted after the long day.

There was a link and a single line of text above.

I FUCKING HATE MYSELF FOR WHAT I DID, LIVVY LOVE. PLEASE TALK TO ME.

She felt her stomach flip over inside her body. Over two years hadn't changed what he could make her feel. The e-mail was so unlike him. He was easy come, easy go, no worries and going with the flow. He didn't beg because if he didn't have what he wanted, then he just found something else. Which was why they were in the situation they were in.

With trepidation, she touched the link and sat her phone on the pillow beside her, slipping further into the bed and rolling over on her side, her knees curled into her chest.

Of course it was a song. In fact, it was a new song by Blake Shelton, one of her favorites. It broke her heart just enough that she couldn't draw in a full breath. She lied there and took little, shallow breaths that made her chest jump up and down while tears rolled out of her eyes to wet the pillowcase. He was singing about how this woman was his everything--the best thing he'd ever had and the worst heartbreak he'd ever endured–and how he regretted not trying harder to make her hold on when it ended.

Liv turned her face into the pillow and let the sobs take over, shaking her body. The memory foam pillow did a great job of muffling her cries for the neighbors. Although, that wasn't really one of the selling points of the product when she'd bought it.

The song ended and she quieted, turned her face to the side again and hastily rubbed away the tears from her face. She stared at the phone. She could call him and air her grievances, telling him every hurtful thing he'd made her feel since that day. But that wouldn't change what happened, and it would probably just lead to her caving in and allowing him back in her life. Which was unacceptable. She'd been strong for months, living in the same city as him. She wasn't going to cave in now.

* * *

"Hey, Liv!" Abby's cheerful voice came across the line. "Did I interrupt work?"

It felt good to hear a familiar, happy voice. "Hey, Abby. No, I was just finishing up a report for my boss. How's my sweet, little girl?"

"Walking here, there, and everywhere. Now I know why people put leashes on their kids."

Liv laughed. "Don't you dare. Maddie is not a dog."

"Oh, I won't. But I'm tempted."

And then there was awkward silence, which almost never happened with Abby. They got along well enough that conversation was easy. "What's up?" Liv asked.

"I talked to Adam yesterday."

Liv felt her spine stiffen. "Okay"

"He wants to talk to you."

"I know." She picked at some fuzz on her skirt. "He e-mailed me a couple days ago. I didn't respond."

"He said he would be at the Rose Garden on Naglee at two o'clock on Sunday."

"So?"

Abby sighed. "He said it would be nice if you'd meet him there. And he said you don't have to talk to him if you don't want. He just wants to see you."

She felt sick to her stomach. "Abby, I can't."

"I know, sweetie. I was just as pissed at him for hurting you, but he sounds like he's really driving himself crazy over you. I think he's serious about apologizing. Just meet him and let him apologize so you can move on with your life."

It sounded like the adult thing to do, but Adam Burish was a weakness. A wink of his eye, and she'd be at risk of falling into his bed.

* * *

{Olympic Break, February 2010}

He’d invited her to watch the final game of hockey that would determine if Canada or the US won gold. They were at Sharpie’s house. She looked like a deer caught in headlights, and Sharpie looked like he was floored that Adam had invited a girl. That was fair because Adam was floored that he’d invited her, too. Women were segregated from friends and work. The type of women he got involved with didn’t lend themselves well to integrating easily into this world. They were attention seekers and, while they were usually hot, they tended to embarrass him when they were in a group of his friends.

He wasn’t worried about her, though. Liv would be just fine. She was sweet and a little quiet, and she looked absolutely gorgeous sitting there beside him in her jeans and her Team USA shirt on over a turtleneck. Her hair was down, and he was tempted to reach over and twist a strand around his finger, maybe pull her in for a kiss.

Sharpie was watching him again, and it was starting to irritate him. “Want a beer?” he asked her during a break in play.

Liv looked over and smiled. “Sure.” He felt proud of her. She’d said she was a fan from the beginning, but there were a group of Blackhawks sitting in the room, and she hadn’t fawned over a single one. Just him. It made him feel good.

“I’ll be right back,” he told her, resting a hand on her knee for a moment. When he stood up to go into the kitchen, Sharpie followed him.

“Who is she?”

Adam opened the fridge and pulled out two beers. “A girl I met a few days ago.”

“You don’t bring your hook ups around us.”

“Guess she’s not a hook up then.”

Sharpie narrowed his eyes. “You got yourself a girlfriend, Burr? An actual, honest-to-God girlfriend?”

Adam twisted the caps off both bottles. Maybe he did. He’d only been interested in seeing her since the first time he’d laid eyes on her. “Maybe,” he told Sharpie, pushing past his teammate to go back into the living room.

His seat had been taken by Abby. The two women were sitting close, their heads together, deep in conversation. Bolland was sitting on the other side of Liv. “Move over, you clown,” he told the younger man.

Bolland craned his head to see the television around Adam’s body, but did as he was told and shifted over to put some space between himself and Liv. Adam squeezed into that space, his thigh pressing pleasantly all the way up hers.

“Did I take your spot?” Abby asked him.

“I found a new one,” he answered, holding a bottle of beer out to Liv. “Just don’t scare her away from me.”

Abby smiled. “I won’t. I was just telling her how you really need a girlfriend to go fix your condo. It’s a disaster.”

“What do you say, sweetheart? Want to come fix up my place?”

* * *

{Present Day, Early April 2013}

He felt like he was going to either rip every single flower out of the garden in front of him or put his head down on the bench and just cry. It was two-fifty-seven. Almost an hour after he’d told Abby he’d be here. She’d assured him she’d passed the information along to Liv, but Liv wasn’t here. She hadn’t come, and now he was sitting on a bench under a shade tree looking at a stupid bed of spring flowers A few other people were walking the perimeter of the lawn, but most of the visitors were actually within the formal rose garden.

He’d sat on the bench because you had an easy view of everyone approaching. Each face that walked by that wasn’t hers made him feel lower and lower. He should probably just move on with his life like she was doing with hers. Maybe she’d found someone. Maybe she was dating some rich, entrepreneur who made millions in the tech industry. Maybe Adam Burish was just an aging hockey player who fucked up the best thing he’d ever had.

Leaning forward, he rested his forearms on his knees and dropped his head, staring at the grass between his shoes. Depression was palpable and real. She really didn’t care, and the hardest thing was that he couldn’t blame her.

A disturbance in the air next to him made him glance up to see who had dared sit beside him when he was obviously so fucking miserable. Adam wasn’t sure if she heard the choked sound that emitted from his throat, but if she did, she didn’t let on. It was her. Liv. She was gorgeous like she’d always been. Her hair was a little shorter and the highlights a little lighter, but other than that she was the same. He knew every single inch of her body so well that it felt strange seeing her after all this time.

She wasn’t looking at him. Instead, she was staring forward, her hands folded in her lap. She was wearing a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. The day was warm, but the breeze made it a little chilly. Her lips were a soft red, just enough to show off how beautiful she was. He ached for her, wanting to reach out and hug her and tell her that he loved her, that he should have said it a long time ago. But he’d promised he wouldn’t talk unless she wanted to talk, and she wasn’t talking.

Adam sat back and laid his hand on the bench between them, his pinky finger just a few inches from her thigh. It was the closest he’d been in what seemed like a lifetime, but he remembered the way she felt and the way she tasted as if it had just been yesterday. All those women in between just faded away.

“I want to talk, but I don’t want you to say anything,” she said.

Adam nodded his head when she darted a little glance in his direction. He tried to catch her eye, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze.

“You make me so sad, Adam. Every time someone mentions your name or you send me a text or an e-mail, I just feel sick and sad and depressed. I guess that means I’m not over you. But I’m trying. I need you to let me live my life. You had a chance, and you screwed it up. I don’t know that I could ever get over the way you ripped my heart out.”

His chest was on fire, and there was a dull roaring in his ears. Adam blinked and a tear rolled down his cheek. Fuck. Was he crying? In public?

She looked over at him,g and this time she did meet his gaze. Her brown eyes looked so sad and tired. He blinked again and felt another tear trace down his cheek. He put everything he had into his eyes, every apology and every bit of shame and regret, every time he’d ever thought that he wanted to make it up to her and make things right.

“Oh, Adam,” she said softly. He felt naked, like she could see every piece of him, every flaw. “Don’t be upset with me. You wanted something different. That’s what we’re doing. Different, separately.”

He wanted to talk. He needed to tell her how untrue that was. But he’d promised. And he’d never, ever break another promise to her again.

“I hope you’re doing well in San Jose. It’s different here. I feel homesick a lot. I miss my friends, but I guess this is where I need to be now. Work is hard. They’ve got strict quotas I have to meet, and I’m just barely meeting them most months. Andy was supposed to come out this month, but she had a great opportunity back home and had to delay her visit. I think about you when I’m lonely. Actually, I think about you more than that. You’ll always be special to me, you know. I’ll probably always love you.” Liv sniffed and tilted her head back to blink away the tears, letting them slid back into her eyes so they wouldn’t fall over her cheeks like his had.

“There’s a place at Pomponio State Beach that is gorgeous--a little outcropping of rock that you can sit on and look out over the ocean. I’ve been there a few times. It... settles me. I think that was the way you put it all that time ago. It only takes an hour to get there. You should go on one of your off days. I think you’d like it. Just take the coastal highway and get off on the exit just past the Pomponio one. Take a right and then a left until you see a little parking lot about a block from the beach. Park there and just walk over.”

Could he talk now? Could he just tell her he fucking loved her? Loved and loves and will always love. Past and present and future.

“So, yeah.” Liv ran her fingers through her hair, sorting out the strands that had been misplaced by the breeze. “Mine would be you, too.”

She stood and gave him that silly little wave she’d always given him when he was leaving for a road trip. It never got old, and he’d missed it so much. She’d referenced the song he’d sent her, so she had gotten it after all. Adam launched himself off the bench and grabbed her wrist. He’d give anything to explain himself.

Liv’s eyes were wide with surprise when she turned her head to look at him.

He’d promised not to speak, and she’d asked him not to when she sat down, but he did look at her, letting all his desperation and all his fear seep into his eyes when he mouthed, “I need you.” It was the truest thing he could think to say other than telling her he was still in love with her.

“Always trying to bend the rules,” she told him with a small, sad smile. “And you don’t need me, Adam. You’re doing just fine on your own. San Jose will love you.”

She pulled free of his grasp and walked off across the lawn to the parking lot of the rose garden. He was torn between manic thoughts of running after her to throw himself at her feet and depressed notions of just lying down on the ground and dying. Instead, he sat down on the bench, put his head between his knees, and let a couple more tears fall.

* * *

He was in Chicago. The Sharks were playing his old team in his old arena. Going into the visitor's locker room always felt strange. He'd spent so long in Chicago developing himself into the player he currently was, and he'd never think of the city as anything less than a second home.

Sharpie was standing out in the hall with him, their backs leaned up against the wall as they exchanged stories about what mutual friends had been up to lately. The game didn't start for another two hours, so they had time.

During a lull in the conversation, Sharpie said, "You look like shit, man."

Adam dropped his head and took a special interest in his shoes. "I feel like shit."

"The grind of the game or her?"

"Her." They didn't need to say who. They both knew that Liv was the only her that mattered to Adam. He'd hung out with and dated multiple girls since Liv, but none of them mattered. He'd introduced Kristen to Sharpie and a few other friends. Everyone who was a real friend, not just a buddy, gave him that weird grimace when he'd introduced her. That look that said, "Okay, sure. We'll go along with this for a while, but you're not really serious, right?"

Obviously, he hadn't been really serious because she was so easy to cut out and get over. Liv had cut herself out over two years ago, and he still couldn't get over it. That was serious.

"Abby said you were trying to meet up with her a couple weeks ago. How'd that go?"

"Not fucking great. Obviously."

"Obviously," Sharpie replied.

"She talked, but told me she didn't want to hear what I had to say. So I shut up and let her tell me how she was doing and how she'd found this great place to sit and think by the beach. And I couldn't say a word because I'd promised her."

"Since when do you shut up, Burr?"

"I promised. I won't break another one."

Sharpie's smiled faded away and he sighed. "Yeah," he said, shifting on his feet. The conversation had gotten too heavy for them. This wasn't what they needed right before a game.

"Better call and tell Abby to get out the box of Kleenex since you'll be crying after we spank you on the ice tonight," Adam told his friend.

"Fuck you."

* * *

{Present Day, Early April 2013}

"Liv, you actually answered your phone. What is the world coming to?"

"Can it, Abby. I've been busy."

"And avoiding me because you know I want to know if you met him a couple days ago.”

Liv closed her eyes and settled back into the plush cushions on her couch. "I did."

"And?"

"And I am super woman. I didn't cave. I was afraid I'd just turn into jelly and forgive him and do anything he wanted. But I didn't."

Abby laughed softly. "I knew you wouldn't. You should give yourself more credit. What did he say to you?"

"Nothing. I told him not to talk."

"And he actually listened?"

Liv chuckled, but the noise of it just sounded dead and dry. "Yeah, for once in his life he actually listened and shut up. It was amazing."

"Soooo," Abby said, "that's that? The end of Adam Burish?"

Was it the end of him? While seeing him had hurt, it had also felt good. A familiar face in a city of unfamiliar ones. And he'd looked so hurt, so torn apart. She'd almost wrapped him up in a hug. The memory of how he felt pressed against her was seared into her brain. She would be eighty-years-old and still remember how his arms felt around her. That was never going to change.

And she loved him. Still. He was playing his first year in a new city, and he looked so unhappy, so desperate, that she'd almost called him twice in the past couple days just to make sure he was going to be okay. It hurt to see someone you love hurt, even if he hadn't been the best thing for her in the end.

"Liv? You there?"

"Yeah," she replied, pulling herself out of her own thoughts. "I don't know, Abby. I don't know if it's the end of Adam Burish. I almost called him twice afterward. He just looked so... sad."

"He is," Abby said. "He knows he messed up when he lost you. He wants you back. Bad."

"How do you know?"

"Pat says so."

"Has Adam told him that?" Liv asked, laying her head down on the arm of the couch and closing her eyes.

"No, not really. But he and Pat have been friends a while. He knows. Adam has only dated one girl since you that Pat's met. Pat said that she was pretty pathetic and wouldn't last long. I think they broke up in February."

"He was dating her when I moved here?"

"No, I think it was afterward--November or December. But he gave her the boot not long after. I think Pat said January or February. Not very long-lived."

"Well, he does get around. So, I guess that shouldn't surprise me," Liv said.

"For what it's worth, Liv, I think he's growing up. Maybe he's not already there, but he's trying. And I know you don't want to hear it, but I think he's trying for you."

"I don't think that he and I are ever going for round two."

"You don't think? I thought you were for sure done with him a few months ago," Abby said.

Liv opened her eyes and looked at the blank television screen across the room. Did she really want to confess what she'd done? That would be admitting weakness. What the hell, she thought. Abby was a good friend, and she'd always been supportive. "I left an opening," Liv told her.

"What do you mean?"

"He and I used to get out of town on Saturday mornings when he was available. It wasn't often with his schedule, but we'd drive out of town and find a quiet place and settle ourselves."

"Settle?"

Oh, that was right. That was a term she used with Adam. No one else understood what she meant by it. God, she missed him. "Like, go somewhere quiet and just calm yourself, be at peace, relax."

"Okay, so what's this opening you left him?"

"I told him where I'm going every Saturday morning."

"What? And he hasn't been there to meet you yet?"

Liv sighed. "I didn't tell him I was going there. I just told him it was a place he might like. Besides, he's almost always out of town or busy with practice. I doubt he even remembers what I said."

"Oh, Liv. He remembers. Trust me. You better be prepared for him to show up one day. It's inevitable."

"Maybe."

"What are you going to do when he does show?" Abby asked.

"I have no idea."

* * *

{Late April 2010}

“What are you doing?”

She looked up at his face when his sleepy voice cut through the silence of the bedroom. The gentle noise of the heater pushing warm air into his bedroom was the only sound. She’d been tracing the muscles of his bare chest and stomach with her index finger while he slept. They were both naked and wrapped up in his expensive sheets. Sheets she’d picked out for him a couple weeks before when she’d realized he only had two sets. Typical man.

“Touching you.”

“Teasing me,” Adam corrected.

Liv giggled and kissed his sternum before moving up to kiss his lips lightly, just brushing her mouth over his. “Touching,” she said again. “I love touching you.”

“Not as much as I love touching you, Livvy love,” he said in a rough voice as he rolled her beneath him. “What time is it?”

“Almost seven.”

He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. “Good. I can stay in bed with you for another hour before I have to go.”

“Are you nervous?” Tonight was the second game of the first series in the playoffs. Nashville had won the first.

“Focused. I want to get out there and do my job.” He slid one of his muscular thighs between her legs.

“Am I distracting you?” she asked, worried that she was having a bad influence on a team she adored.

Adam laughed softly and moved to settle himself between her legs. “Livvy love, you’re always a distraction. But only in a good way.”

She sighed as he lined himself up and slipped himself inside her. He was always ready to go in the mornings, hard as a rock and so frisky. She’d never loved waking up before Adam. Now she wanted to hurry to bed so she could open her eyes and feel his hands all over her and his cock inside her. Sex was effortless for him. He loved it, and he made her crave it like she’d never craved anything before.

“You feel so good,” she whispered in his ear. “Don’t stop.”

“Sweetheart, I never want to stop with you.”

Things had moved fast. By the time he went back to work after the Olympics break, they were exclusive. He’d gone about it in a smooth way, just sliding it into conversation that she should be his girlfriend if she was going to decorate his condo. She’d been too stunned to do anything but nod. She had no other prospects, and even if she had, she’d have dropped them in a hot second when Adam Burish snapped his fingers.

Despite the away games and traveling, they managed to spend more time together in March than she’d spent with her last boyfriend who had lived and worked full-time in the same city. They’d gone away on a couple different Saturday mornings to sit in his truck and listen to music and talk and make out like two teenagers who were sneaking around so their parents didn’t find out. She had a key to his place, but they tried to keep things discrete so the Chicago media didn’t get a whiff. Adam had been very protective of her in that regard, and she appreciated it.

Now the Blackhawks were in the first leg of the playoffs with either a run to the Cup or summer just around the corner, and they hadn’t talked about what would happen during the summer. Would he be leaving for Madison? Was the whirlwind relationship over? Where did she stand with him? Because she was definitely in love with the man who was on top of her, pressing and rolling his hips right into her willing body.

“I’ll miss you this summer,” she murmured as she clutched onto his shoulders and dug her heels into his ass.

He kissed her hard and then ran his lips and tongue down her jawbone to the sweet spot on her neck just under her ear. “Livvy love, I’m not leaving you. You can take a week off work and go home with me to visit.”

She squeezed him against her, lifting her hips up. The emotion she was feeling heightened every physical sensation he was giving her. He wanted to take her home with him, and, better yet, he wasn’t going to run off this summer. A choked cry of pleasure tumbled out of her mouth. “Oh, god,” she said on an exhale. “I love you.”

He growled deep in his throat and threw one of her legs over his shoulder while he went at her a bit harder, and deeper now that he had a different angle. “My mom is going to fucking weep when she meets you,” he said.

His strokes were distracting. She couldn’t have a serious conversation when the muscles of her lower abdomen were pulled taut at the pleasure he was causing. “Why?”

“She’ll love you. I can’t wait.”

Wow, she thought. This was way more serious than she originally assumed. But the talk about seeing his parents and spending the summer together made her feel mushy and happy and loved. His mouth on her nipple and the way he felt inside her just pushed her over the edge. Liv came hard around him, crying out his name like she did every single time.

* * *

{Present Day, Late April 2013}

Ever since she met him at the rose garden a few weeks ago, she’d looked closely at all of the vehicles parked in the lot by her spot on the beach. Each time she saw a nice pickup truck she held her breath as she approached the rock outcropping that jutted out over the narrow beach and the lapping ocean waves. He’d probably forgotten or never really heard what she’d said at all, but a part of her was hopeful. The rational, logical side of her mind was irritated with that part. He wasn’t the one for her, and she really shouldn’t string him along 

May was just a week away, but the temperature this time of the morning wasn’t bad. The sun had just risen behind her, and the glare was starting to come off the water. She’d worn a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt to keep the chilly ocean breeze from driving her away before she was ready to return to a Saturday morning alone in her apartment.

There were two trucks in the lot, but it had been a month since she told him about Pomponio State Beach and her spot. He wasn’t coming. She thought about how he’d ruined hockey for her. She’d been such a huge fan of the sport before him, but now that she’d been burned, she had a hard time mustering the enthusiasm. Especially when there was always a risk of seeing him in the news or playing a game. She knew from the headlines that the Sharks were doing well and there was a good chance they’d play the Canucks during the first playoff series at the beginning of May. She didn’t care to know more than that, though.

Liv kept her head down as she made her way across the street and down the sandy shoulder of the road. The wind was sharp this morning, and she hoped it would warm up once the sun had risen a bit higher in the sky. Otherwise, she’d be heading home early. There was brush and high grass that she stepped over so she could make her way up the slope of the rocky spot she loved. When she got to the top, she saw the back of someone sitting by the edge.

Her heart shot up into her throat because it was a man in a teal and black hoodie. Sharks colors. He must have heard her shoes scuffing along the rocks because he turned around.

Of course it was Adam, she thought. Of course. Abby had been right all along. It was inevitable.

“Liv,” he said, looking just as surprised as she was.

His voice. God, she missed his voice. In her ear. In the little cab of his truck while they talked and kissed and listened to love songs on the radio.

She almost tucked tail and ran back to her car so she wouldn’t have to do this, but Abby had said she was strong, and Liv hadn’t caved when he’d looked at her with those sad eyes at the rose garden. They were both adults, and she could do this--have a civil conversation with him after almost three years apart.

“Adam,” she said, taking a couple steps forward.

He turned more fully to face her. “I didn’t... I mean, I thought you might come here on Saturdays like we used to, but... I didn’t really think I would...”

The way he was stumbling over words and reaching for a way to tell her he hadn’t meant to intrude on her spot, but was hopeful he would, made her almost smile. Smooth Adam Burish was at a loss for words. She felt accomplished for being the one to fluster him.

“I know,” she said, moving to sit down a few feet away. Liv pulled her knees into her chest and wrapped her arms around them as she looked out over the restless ocean.

Almost a full minute passed in silence before he spoke up. "How have you been?"

It was such a loaded question. Did he mean the last week, month, year? Or did he mean since that day when she walked out and didn't come back? The answer to all of those was the same, though. "Okay. You?" She didn't really want him to answer that, but social niceties were so ingrained that the question came out anyway.

"Not good."

It was a knife in her chest, and he knew it. "I hear the Sharks are doing well."

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about everything else. Everything else is not good. It's been not good for almost three years."

His words just made her mad. "Sorry I fucked up everything, Adam." Liv's voice was icy and hard.

"You didn't. I did, and I know it. I know it's all my fault."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Adam was looking out at the water when she glanced over at him. "I want to apologize," he said.

"It won't change what happened."

"Doesn't matter. I still owe you an apology."

Liv sighed and stretched her legs out in front of her. "Save it. You're messing up my settling."

"You can't expect me to be able to relax with you here. I've missed you so much for so long," he replied.

Lying back, she crossed her hands over her stomach. The rock was uncomfortable against the back of her head. "One day you'll learn when to stop talking, Adam."

He was quiet for a few seconds. "Yes, ma'am." He sounded so sad, like a little boy who'd been told that he wasn't getting anything for Christmas.

Liv saw movement from the corner of her eye. He was taking off his hoodie, and her resistance to him did not extend far enough to keep her eyes off his body as he pulled the sweatshirt over his head, revealing a T-shirt underneath. "Here," he told her. "For your head."

"I'm okay."

"I'll stop talking if you stop being stubborn."

She lifted her arm and snatched the hoodie out of his hand, rolling it up and shoving it under her head. Suddenly, she was surrounded by the way he smelled. He was using a different soap nowadays. Liv wanted to turn her head and bury her face into the fabric, but she didn't. That would look desperate and give him ideas about her being weak when it came to him. She was determined not to be weak, even if she was doing what she said she would never do a few months back.

He leaned back and lied down just a couple feet from her. He didn't say anything. He was a talker, easy comments and jokes falling from his lips like he was just a well-run factory of wit. Having him so close after so long was overwhelming.

Liv pulled her phone and the earbuds connected to it out of her pocket. She saw movement--Adam's head turning to look at what she was doing. "I like to listen to music."

"We always did on these mornings."

He was right; they always did. Since she'd revived the practice in San Jose, she always planned the album in advance. Today's album was Kip Moore's Up All Night. As she pulled it up on her screen, she could feel Adam's eyes on her. He wanted her to look at him, but she wouldn't. Hell, she couldn't because she wanted for him to just apologize and beg her forgiveness. And then she'd be gone again, all about him and unable to stop. If she looked, then he'd give her what she wanted and she'd do something stupid.

"Here," she said, sliding the left earbud over closer to him. "You can listen if you want." The other one went in her ear.

"What are we listening to?"

"Kip Moore," she answered as she pressed play to start the album. Within five seconds of the first song, she knew she'd made a massive mistake. This was the worst album she could have picked to share with him. The absolute worst because it was the absolute best.

* * *

{Present Day, Late April 2013}

He had moved his head closer to hers so they could share the earbuds, and the smell of her shampoo made his heart ache. All he could think about were those nights when he’d gotten knocked around on the ice, punched in the face, slammed against the boards, and how he’d come home and she’d showered with him and then slipped beneath his cool sheets so they could rub against each other while sleep overtook him. Sometimes they’d had sex and sometimes it had just been innocent touches too sooth a purple bruise on his ribs or a cut on his cheekbone.

Why did he ever even think about doing something to mess up what they had up? He’d been ready to take her home to his parents. Hell, he’d been planning it since the Saturday they visited Starved Rock State Park. He’d known all that time that she wasn’t like all the others. But he’d ended up treating her like all the others during some drunken bender.

The music felt like a weight on his chest. His lungs wouldn’t inflate all the way. Try as he might, he just couldn’t pull in a big, fulfilling breath. Instead they were little gasps while he tried not to roll over and reach for her. It would be like coming home if he could just put a hand on his waist and a knee between her legs while he kissed her beautiful lips.

Kip Moore’s voice was smooth, and the second and third songs were upbeat and easy. The fourth was another matter entirely. It hit too close to home; he could even feel her body tease up beside him. Adam would give a hell of a lot to be able to know what she was thinking. Did she miss him? Did he have a chance with her again? He was willing to do anything for her to take him back because with each passing month, with each woman that didn't work out, fear was setting in, fear that she was the only one and she was done with him.

The next song started and the soft, yearning beat was overwhelming. He'd heard it before, knew it well. It had reminded him of her, but he'd never admitted that to anyone, not even fully to himself.

He would give up anything for her. Would he give up hockey? The question made him uncomfortable because the answer wasn't clear cut. After so many years with hockey consuming his life, he thought it was absolutely crazy for him to even consider giving it up for someone. Adam looked over at her just as a tear slid down from the outside edge of her eye to trace across her temple and disappear into her hair.

Yeah, he thought, I'd give it up for her. If she asked me to. But he knew she never would. She wasn't that kind of woman. Making him miserable so she could keep his dick on a leash wasn't really her style. Her style was walking out the door and crushing him just like he fucking deserved.

Slowly, he edged his hand over on the rock, narrowing the space between his body and hers until he could feel the warmth of her arm, even if he wasn't touching her. Adam knew she felt him move, but she didn't pull away, so he closed the inch and laid his pinky and ring fingers over hers. He wondered if he hadn't fucked up if she'd have his ring on that finger by now. Good fucking chance, he thought.

They stayed like that for the rest of the album. When it ended, he edged his hand away and watched as she sat up and pulled her knees into her chest. The earbud fell out of her ear and landed on the rock beside him. Adam sat up and wound the cord around her phone.

"Good luck with playoffs, Adam."

Pulling in a deep breath, he blew it out his open mouth. "Thanks."

"Maybe you'll win the Cup with another team."

It was a touchy subject; he could hear the tension in her voice, and he wasn't sure what to say. "Been thinking about that, and I think it's overrated. I'd be happy if it never happened again." He wasn't really talking about the Cup, and they both damn well knew it.

* * *

{Stanley Cup Final Night, 2010}

He hadn't played, but that didn't dampen the celebration or elation at finally achieving what he'd worked so hard for over the years. Kaner and his fucking crazy shot clinched the victory in overtime, and the entire team was high on endorphins. Before he even got out on the ice in his gear to celebrate and talk to the media, he got a text from Liv.

LIV: OMG - Wish I was there! Congratulations, baby!

She was in Phoenix at a conference--a conference she'd tried like hell to get out of because she told him she wanted to watch him win the Cup. Him, not the Blackhawks. Him. The way she put it made him feel loved and proud that he'd made her proud. Liv hadn't had any doubt. Everyone had doubt, every single guy on the team, but she'd said they'd win because they were the best.

After interviews and celebration, they piled into the charter jet to go back to Chicago while everyone was making plans to go out. Calls were made and clubs were blocking off V.I.P. areas for the team because it was going to be a long night. Months of hard work required some steam be let off.

As soon as they landed in Chicago, they jumped into vehicles that had been sent to pick them up and carry them off to whatever club or bar they wanted. Adam lost track of where they went and how long they stayed. It was a whirlwind of booze and bodies and laughing and music. He didn’t love rap music, but it sounded fucking fantastic when you'd just won the Stanley Cup and had a strong drink in your hand.

The last time he remembered looking at his watch was around three in the morning. He was hazy, the room was not quite level, and Kaner was doing some stupid dance on top of a table while Tazer just shook his head. There was a girl beside him who was touching his thigh, but he didn't know who she was.

"What are you doing?" he asked. It felt wrong, but he couldn't quite put his finger on why. Because of Liv. She wouldn't like it. He wished she was here. They could go home and fuck and then he could fall asleep with his face buried in her tits. That'd be nice.

"Sure, baby. Let's go," the woman next to him said.

What? Did he say what he was thinking out loud? Did she read his mind? He was standing now, and she had his hand, pulling him toward the back door of the club. Where was Sharpie? He hadn't seen him since the last place. Maybe he was home with Abby. He wanted to be home with Liv.

“Hey man,” Tazer said, dropping a hand on his shoulder. The kid was fast. He had come out of nowhere.

“Hey, tell your boy more hip thrusts will get him more tips,” Adam said, pointing over in Kaner’s direction. Even he could hear the slur in his voice, the way the words clumped and melted together.

“Why don’t you stick around and tell him yourself,” Tazer replied.

The woman who was pulling Adam out the door was digging her nails into his arm. “Come on, baby,” she said in a breathy voice.

“Liv.” Tazer only said the one thing, just her name. His eyes were serious. They were always serious--wide and unflinching in the way they stared at people.

“She’s proud of us,” Adam told Tazer, flashing the younger man what was probably a goofy smile.

The woman hanging off his arm put her mouth against his ear. “I don’t know who that is, but she’s not here and I am. Come on. I’m ready for a good time and I hear you’re the man for the job.”

Tazer just shook his head when Adam let her pull him out of the club, his eyes looking judgmental and disappointed. He shouldn’t be because this shit happened all the time in hockey. Girls were always around, and guys were always willing.

The girl pushed him into the backseat of the SUV waiting at the back door. All he remembered about the ride was that she kept kissing his neck and that the sky was slightly pink like it was close to sunrise. Had he been out that long? It wouldn't have been the first time, but he felt more out-of-it than he'd been in a while.

He didn't remember telling the driver where he lived, and he didn't remember giving the girl his key, but he did remember her unbuckling his belt and helping him out of his pants as soon as they walked through the door. Her mouth felt so good on his cock as she sucked him. She wasn't going to get him off, though. He was way too drunk for that to happen. After a few minutes, he pulled her up and shoved her toward the bedroom. He wanted to be inside her, and she was making it easy for him, stripping off the tight dress and flipping her hair over her shoulder as she crawled onto the middle of his bed like she was posing for a fucking camera. Girls always looked dumb when they did shit like that.

A little twinge in the back of his mind screamed at him, but he didn't listen. He followed her and fucked her while she made weird, exaggerated moaning noises. He was drunk, but he could tell she was laying it on a little too thick with the fake moaning. Such a turn off.

Adam didn't remember falling asleep, but when he came to, he heard a clatter. His head was pounding and his mouth was drier than a desert. Where was he and what was the noise? He turned on his side and looked over at the door right as he heard a choked sound.

Liv was standing in the doorway, her hand over her mouth. She looked so pretty in her casual clothes with her long hair in a ponytail and her nails painted cherry red. But her eyes were wide and didn't look good at all.

"Livvy love, what's wrong?" he asked. And then he saw the other body in his bed. The blonde hair spread out of Liv's pillow, the fake breast just uncovered by the sheet. Fuck, he thought. Last night came back in bits and pieces. So many places, so many drinks, so many people. He didn't even know her name. Why did he do that?

"Liv, I don't..." he said, stumbling to explain.

She scooped her keys up off the floor and turned to run out of the room. He jumped up and stumbled over a pile of pillows in the floor, halfway crawling out of the bedroom to find her. The front door slammed shut before he even got out of the room.

"Liv!" he yelled, pulling open the door before he realized he was naked. "Fuck," he cursed, shutting the door and searching the condo for his phone. He always left it by the bed or on the coffee table, and he sure as fuck didn't want to go back into the bedroom. He was on the verge of throwing up, actually.

He found the phone in the pocket of his pants by the door. He dialed her number, but it went straight to voicemail after two rings. Again. And voicemail again. A third time just went to voicemail without a single ring. It wasn't until then that he realized he had a voicemail himself.

He typed in his code and listened, hoping it was her, but knowing it was probably an old message.

"Adam, I am so happy for you," her sweet voice said. "And I never doubted you for a second. I talked to my boss and told him I have something back in Chicago that is much more important than work. He gave me permission to skip out on the rest of the conference. I'm taking an early flight back. We can celebrate by doing that think you like.” Liv’s breathy, playful laugh slid right into, “See you soon, baby."

He didn't even hang up; he just pulled his arm back and launched the phone across the room. It shattered against the wall, breaking into multiple pieces.

"What's going on?"

Adam looked up and saw the girl, wrapped up in the sheets Liv had picked for him. "Get the fuck out," he told her.

"Excuse me?" she said, giving him attitude with her hip jutted out.

"Get dressed and get the fuck out," he repeated before he went into the bathroom and threw up. He'd had way too much to drink, and his head was still pounding, and he'd fucked some random chick. And Liv was never going to talk to him again. It wasn't supposed to go like this.

* * *

{Present Day, Late April}

She’d left right after she’d wished him good luck in the playoffs. In just a few days, he’d be traveling to Rodgers Arena with the Sharks to play the Canucks for the first series. He was looking forward to getting on the ice because that was the only time he could zone out and not think of her.

Except all he could think of now was the fact that he couldn't always be there on the rock at the beach with her every Saturday because playoff schedules were unpredictable and games often happened on the weekends to capitalize on the viewing audience. Of course, it would all be a moot point if she stopped showing up because now he knew where she was going each Saturday morning.

He didn’t know where she lived; she wouldn’t return his calls or texts. The only way he was able to see her was going to the beach like he’d done the day before and sitting with her. Like old times. He’d loved those Saturday mornings he’s spent with her.

“Hey, mom,” he said when his mother picked up the phone. He didn’t call her enough. He was a bad son, an ungrateful prick.

“Be still my heart! Could this actually be my long lost son who has phoned home?”

He chuckled and moved the phone to his other ear. “Just thinking of you and dad. Playoffs start in a couple days, and I wanted to tell you that I appreciate everything you did for me. All the practices you took me to and all the gear you bought and stuff.”

“Are you okay, honey?”

He was probably being weird, but he was feeling emotional lately. He couldn’t talk to the guys about her, not even Sharpie. Not really appropriate subject matter for guys.

“Are you disappointed I’m not married?”

She didn’t respond for a moment. He knew his question was out-of-the-blue and strange. Finally, she said, “No, I’m not disappointed. I just want you to be happy, Adam. Maybe you’ll find someone when you wrap up your career. It’s very demanding on your time.”

“I found someone.”

“Oh. Oh, honey, that’s great! What’s her name? Will you bring her home with you to visit this summer?”

“I found her three years ago, and I had planned on bringing her home back then, but I messed things up. She hasn’t spoken to me in a long time.”

“You love her.” It wasn’t a question.

“She moved to San Jose last year and finally agreed to sit down with me recently. But it’s tough, mom. She doesn’t trust me, and I don’t know what I can say to get that back.”

“You can’t talk your way into trust, Adam. You have to prove it to her.”

“How?”

“That’s something you have to figure out on your own.”

He sighed. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Be honest with her and show her you deserve her.”

He laughed, but it sounded bitter. “I don’t deserve her.”

“Oh, honey, I’m sure you do.”


	3. Chapter 3

{Present Day, Early May 2013}

She decided on the new Miranda Lambert just in case he showed up this Saturday. It wasn't as charged as the Kip Moore album had been. Less likely to tear her heart out while he was just a foot away with his hands and arms and lips that were so familiar.

There were three trucks in the lot. People liked to park there and make their way to the beach so they could jog early in the morning. The temperature was warm--almost seventy degrees already, even if the sun was just now coming up.

One truck was an old green Chevy with rust above the wheels. Not his. Another was a flashy red one with a cover on the bed and a couple decals on the back window. Not his either. The third one was him. Brand new, black, custom rims, extended cab. She knew him too well. Liv fought the urge to run away by getting back in her car. She'd known the risk of telling him about her spot, but she'd done it anyway because she missed him so fucking much. And because his eyes in the rose garden had almost killed her.

"Morning," he said, looking over his shoulder at her when she finally came into view.

Liv didn't reply, just settled down next to him. She could see his jeans and white T-shirt out of the corner of her eye. His hair was still damp from the shower he'd probably taken this morning, and it was slicked back, the edges of it curling around his ears. He needed a haircut, but she'd always liked his hair a little on the long side. It made him look rugged and handsome and just a little dangerous.

She was in a pair of yoga pants and a light jacket that was zipped up to her chin. Comfortable and cute without trying too hard. It made her feel stupid that she thought of what he'd like to see her in. Adam was an easy-going guy. He liked pretty girls. It didn't matter if they were in a designer dress that stopped two inches below their ass cheeks or if they were in a faded pair of blue jeans. She'd learned she never really had to try to impress him. He had x-ray vision and knew what was underneath.

Liv pulled out the earbuds and held one out to him. He was careful to take it without touching her hand, and she appreciated the gesture more than she could say. It softened her heart enough to drag a, "Good morning, Adam," from her lips. "Saw that you guys have won two in a row."

"Yeah," he replied, dropping his head and looking down at his chest. His hand came up and flipped a strand of hair out of his eyes.

"Congratulations." The Sharks looked amazing and they'd defeated the Canucks in the first two games of the series. They were now the favorites to advance.

"Long way to go. What are we listening to?"

"Miranda Lambert." She pressed play on her phone and leaned back. Expecting the back of her head to hit the hard rock, she was surprised when it landed on something soft. One of his sweatshirts. She hadn't seen it on the other side of him, and he must have slipped it under her when she wasn't looking.

Liv looked up and met his eyes as he leaned a little closer than was comfortable. "Thanks," she whispered as the music started.

"Anytime," he replied before he shifted to lie down beside her. She was glad he left a little over a foot of space between them.

He'd been quiet during these two mornings. A quiet Adam was unusual. The entire time she'd known him, he was the life of the party, the one who was drawing everyone into conversation, the one who talked her ear off before he pulled her panties off. She'd loved every single second of it, but this was nice, too. Just being there with him was nice. No talking, no explanations. He'd tried to explain himself so many times--on her voicemail, by text, by e-mail--but they were words. Actions always spoke louder.

The album was nice, and Miranda Lambert's vocals reminded her of more traditional female country vocals. Liv had always liked those the best--the little bit of a cry and a little bit more backbone to the notes. She felt like she'd made a good choice until halfway through tracklisting. Over You started playing, and she realized she'd forgotten this song was on the album. It was about a girl with a broken heart who was struggling to get past a relationship. Close enough to home, she thought, turning her gaze from the soft blue sky and over to the right, away from him.

Her eyes were welling up with tears, and she didn't want him to see them. If he saw her crying, then he'd give her tenderness and sympathy. And tenderness from him would seal her fate. She'd cave and end up letting him talk to her and tell her everything she'd wanted to hear for years. Which was ridiculous because she was here, flirting with disaster again. Holding her heart out to someone who'd already stomped on it.

Liv pulled herself together and used the corner of his sweatshirt to discreetly dry her tears before she turned her gaze back up to the sky. Looking down her body, she saw his shoe just a few inches from her own. He was tapping it against the air to the beat. The little movement, something so innocent, made emotion well up in her again. He was a good guy; he wasn’t the devil. He wasn’t an evil heartbreaker who used her. But he was an idiot--a stupid asshole who had had one too many drinks and thought was his dick instead of his brain. That didn’t change things, though. She couldn’t take him back; she’d always worry, always think he was on the make, and that was no way to live.

She pulled in a long, deep breath and let it out in increments, trying to push the weight off her chest and come to terms with the fact that she could never feel his arms around her again, even if he was there and willing.

When the album ended, she sat up and pulled her knees into her chest. Adam sat up too and carefully wrapped the headphone cord around her phone. “Thank you for coming and sitting with me, Liv,” he said softly.

“Good luck tomorrow,” she replied before standing up and making her way back to the car.

* * *

{Mid-June 2010}

Abby used a hand to swipe all the tissues off Liv’s table into the wastebasket. “I’ll make you a cup of coffee, and then we can go do something. How about shopping?”

“I don’t want to go anywhere,” Liv said.

“Honey, you can’t just sit here.”

“I can until I have to go back to work on Monday.” Liv hadn’t changed out of the sweatpants and T-shirt she’d put on when she’d gotten home two days ago. She wasn’t about to fix her disastrous hair and put on makeup to go shopping with Abby when her heart felt like one big open wound.

Abby sat down beside her and put a comforting hand on her leg. “Have you heard from him?”

“Twenty-two missed calls, eight voicemails, fourteen text messages, two e-mails, and a partridge in a pear tree.”

“Pat said he is going crazy.”

Liv hung her head. “I feel like such an idiot. How embarrassing. I actually thought he was going to be different for me. I mean, how fucking stupid, right?” Her voice broke at the end of the question as tears welled up in her eyes again.

Abby snatched a Kleenex from the box on the coffee table and handed it over. Liv dabbed at her eyes and nose. “You’re not stupid, Liv. He’s stupid , and he knows it.”

A soft knock at the door made them both jump.

Looking at Liv, Abby said, “He hasn’t tried to come by, has he?”

“No,” Liv answered. “It’s probably Andrea. She told me she would be over after work.”

It was Andrea. The two women sat there in Liv’s living room and tried to make her feel less stupid and less used and less hurt, but nothing they said really mattered. All that mattered was the man she was in love with had thought so little of her that he’d taken home a random woman from a bar and had sex with her in the bed she’d shared with him almost every single night he had been in town for the past three months. It made her sick.

The screen of her cell phone lit up again. Incoming call from Adam plain as day on the screen.

“Are you going to answer it?” Andy asked.

“No,” Liv said. “Just turn it off.”

“Have you listened to his voicemails?”

“Just the first two.”

Abby reached out and hit the power button on Liv’s phone. “What did he have to say?” she asked.

“That he didn’t remember much. He had too much to drink and was thinking about how he wished he could go home with me, and then there was a woman there who helped him out to one of the vehicles and took him back to his place. That he wasn’t in his right mind when he’d done it. That he wishes he could take it all back and he’ll do anything to make it up to me.” She said it all with a deadpan voice, unable to feel anything other than stupid and hurt and disgust at him for being so fucking cheap that he thought any of his explanations would excuse his behavior.

“It’s probably the truth, Liv,” Abby said. “Pat and I left around two and he was pretty gone. We thought the other guys were keeping an eye on him.”

“How would you feel if it had been Pat?”

Abby looked away. “Probably just like you feel. I don’t blame you, Liv. I’d do the same thing. Fuck him.”

“That’s right,” Andrea said. “Fuck him. He’s not worth another second of your time.”

Liv dabbed at her leaky eyes again and tried not to feel like the world was over. He’d been planning on taking her home with him to meet his parents. Things had been getting serious. She’d been building their future in her mind. And now it was all gone. Laid to waste by the Stanley Cup, booze, and a slut with fake tits.

* * *

{Present Day, Mid May 2013}

The Sharks had won the first series and she wondered if he’d be there at the spot by the beach. His truck wasn’t in the lot and Liv tried to squash the disappointment that flooded into her mind. This was crazy; this was playing with fire. It was good that he didn’t show. Maybe they could both move on with their lives.

When she got up to her perch on the rock overlooking the waves, there was a man standing in Adam’s spot. Two weeks and it was already his spot. “Olivia?” the man asked. He was in his early twenties with cropped hair and tattoos all the way down his arms to his wrists. He wore a pair of long shorts that hit just below his knees and an old T-shirt.

“Yes,” she said.

“This is for you,” he replied, bending down and picking up a box behind him.

“Do I know you?” she asked, confusion taking over the shock of seeing someone other than Adam. Especially someone who knew her name.

He shook his head. “No, I work for a courier service. I was told to be here before six and wait for you so I could pass this along.”

Hesitantly, Liv stepped forward and took the box from him. It was about the size of a shoebox. “Who sent you?” She knew full well who sent him. There could only be one person.

“A client. I don’t know the name; they just tell me where to go.”

“Thanks,” she replied.

The man put his hands in his pockets and started to walk off. “Hey, have a nice day,” he said as an afterthought over his shoulder.

“Yeah, you too,” Liv answered before looking down at the box in her hands. It was black with a black and white paisley print lid--her favorite pattern. She had so many pieces of artwork and clothing with various paisley designs on them. He knew her well.

She sat down and lifted the lid, a small amount of trepidation in her body as she wondered what was inside. It was a piece of notebook paper. Underneath was an iPod mini and a Sharks hoodie. What? Unfolding the paper, she stretched her legs out and began to read the note written in Adam’s boyish scrawl.

_Liv,_  
Mandatory practice sucks when it keeps you from where you really want to be. Did you know you can lose your job if you tell them that you’d rather go sit on the beach with an old girlfriend than practice with the team so you can win the Cup? You can. I tried. Here’s something for your head (because I know you forgot) and something for your ears. Wish I could be there with you.  
Adam 

_PS - #2. I'm on my knees, Livvy love._

Simple with just a dash of that personality. If she hadn’t recognized his handwriting, then she would have still known it was him. He was in her blood for the rest of her life, and her blood knew him well. The P.S. was a mystery. She didn't like that he'd used the nickname, but not liking it wouldn't change things.

Liv looked out over the soft glow of the morning sun on the water and sighed. Her fingers flexed, wanting to reach for the hoodie. Finally, she folded the note up and put it in her pocket so she could lift the fabric up and bury her face in it. She knew she was being weak, but it felt good to be surrounded by his smell. Different shampoo, but the cologne was the same. And underneath it all was just the way Adam smelled--fresh from a shower and pulling her into bed with a grin on his face.

A strange, choked sob escaped her throat as she pulled the sweatshirt away and rolled it up for a pillow. Liv lied down and unplugged her headphones from her phone, transferring them over to the iPod he’d put in the box. There was only one album on it--Gary Allan’s Used Heart for Sale. She started the first song and closed her eyes while she wondered if the number in his note referred to a track number.

This was an album she was unfamiliar with--an older one from the mid-nineties. The first song was an upbeat one that gave a nod to the Bakersfield sound. The lyrics were about a woman stealing a man’s heart, but the tone of the song was playful and made her smile as she tapped her toe against the rock beneath her. Adam knew her well enough to know what she would like and what she wouldn't.

When the second track came on it became obvious that the number in his note was referencing that song on the album. It was a confession from a man about town that he was ready to settle down. Maybe he'd meant for it to make her swoon and call him up, thanking him for finally realizing she was the one. Really, she just felt sad that he'd come to the realization too late. Things were already beyond repair. Regardless, the song still brought tears to her eyes.

On his knees, he'd said. Why? Why pursue her so hard when she'd shown him time and time again that there was no future with her? Once a cheater, always a cheater. She couldn't get over the mental block that the next time he left her sight, he'd be slipping into bed with another woman. The image of him in his bed with a stranger was something she could never erase, no matter how hard she tried.

* * *

{Early October 2010}

Summer had been busy, and that was on purpose. He didn't want to any time to stop, stand still, and think about how he'd lost Liv. Abby gave him dirty looks when he came around to hang out with Sharpie. He wondered if the woman had told Sharpie not to spend too much time around him because he was a bad influence. He felt like an asshole whenever he was in the room with someone who knew Liv. Even if they weren't judging him, he was judging himself. Hard, too.

She'd never returned his phone calls, his texts, his emails, his pleas. When he had visited Chicago right before flying down to Dallas for the pre-season, he had almost went and knocked on her door. Two things had stopped him--the weight of her hurt eyes when she'd seen him in bed with the other woman and the fact that he had signed a two-year deal with Dallas and wouldn't be able to see her often even if she forgave him.

He'd actually been prepared to accept less money from Chicago just to stay there for her. If they hadn't had interest, then he’d been prepared to ask her to move with him. But maybe the mistake--which was how he'd begun to refer to it--was a good thing. She got to stay in Chicago for her career, and it saved them the stress of a long-distance relationship.

He'd settled into a bare apartment in a high-rise near the arena in Dallas. The city was different than Wisconsin and Chicago, and it was taking some getting used to. The night after their first home game, he'd gone home and collapsed on his bed. It was a mess of sheets with just one pillow at the head of it. No need for another since she was gone.

In a moment of weakness, he picked up his phone and dialed her number. No answer, which wasn't really a surprise.

"Hey, Liv. I understand why you're not talking to me. I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I, uh, fucked up pretty bad, and I'd give anything to take it back. Just played my first home game with the Stars. Sure is different here. I came home and thought about you. Coming home to you was... amazing. I wanted that for the rest of my life. No lie." Adam chuckled sadly. "Sorry. I sound like a loser. I miss you. Goodnight, sweetheart."

He had to cut the message short because he was getting choked up, and he didn't need her to hear him like that. He'd left enough desperate messages on her cell in the two days after she'd walked into his bedroom and out of his life. She was probably sick of hearing from him, but he just couldn't stop himself tonight. it was going to be rough to live without her during the grind of the season. She'd made it so much easier.

* * *

{Present Day, Mid-May 2013}

They had a game on Saturday night and morning skate beforehand. He'd injured himself in the last game against the Canucks, and the medical staff had marked him off the list of eligible players. Even though he was hurting and not at the top of his game, it was frustrating to be scratched due to injury during such an important part of the season. However, that didn't mean he was allowed to skip out on team practices at a time like this. There were strategy meetings and it boosted morale to have all the guys at each practice during the playoffs.

Adam understood why he couldn’t play, and he understood why he still had to be there, but he didn’t like either. He’d rather be spending the morning with her looking out over the water and listening to music. Instead, he ripped a sheet of paper out of the notebook on the desk he never used and leaned over it, his face only a few inches from the scratching of the pen across the sheet. His handwriting was horrible, but it was legible.

_Liv,_  
I hurt my hand and they won’t let me play. But they won’t let me out of practices either. Better figure something out or I’ll have sent you all my sweatshirts to use as pillows. I know you love Luke Bryan because he wears tight jeans. I’m just imagining you lying there with your hair spread out and that pretty smile on your face when you read this. I hope I can still make you smile every now and then.  
Adam 

_P.S. #3 and #13. Still on my knees, Livvy love._

He sat back and looked at it--at his childish scrawl, the way he pressed too hard on a cheap sheet of ruled notebook paper, the way the last word on a couple of the lines was squished up because he hadn’t planned properly. It looked so dumb, but he hoped she understood. Really, he just wanted to write, “I’m still in love with you,” over and over and over again until she believed him and gave him a second chance. Knowing her, she’d probably burn the paper and send back the ashes. Knowing him, he would deserve it.

Adam opened the little box that contained the brand new iPod mini. He’d picked it up after practice a couple days ago. He’d been hoping he could make it in person and listen to her music, but when it was obvious that work was going to prevent that, he dropped money on another one so he could send her the Luke Bryan album. He plugged the new hardware into his computer and uploaded the album, making sure all the songs were in the right order so she could listen to the two that he’d referenced in the letter.

Then he picked up the box with a pink paisley lid and pulled off his sweatshirt. He rolled it up and stuffed it into the box, nestling the iPod into the middle and then laying the folded note on top. Adam picked up his phone and dialed the courier service to tell them he wanted them to do the same thing as last week. It hadn’t elicited a response from her, good or bad. But the courier had told him that she took the box and didn’t shove it back in his face. That was something. Two years ago, she probably would have written “fuck you” on the box and sent it back to him. God, he loved her.

As soon he hung up, his cell rang. The number was a Chicago one, but unfamiliar. Normally, he didn’t answer calls from someone not in his address book, but he went ahead and picked this one up.

“Hello?”

“Uh, who is this?” It was a man’s voice, probably in his thirties or forties.

“Who is this?” Adam asked, ready to pull the phone away from his ear and disconnect.

“Is this Adam Burish?”

His hackles went up. Who was it and how did they get his number? “How did you get this number?”

“I moved into this apartment back before Christmas and there was a Burish jersey hanging in the closet. It was signed and had this number written on it. I didn’t really expect anyone to answer or I would have called earlier. Is this really Adam Burish?”

Adam felt his stomach drop. Liv’s jersey, the one he’d signed and scribbled his number on the night after he’d slept with her. He hadn’t really thought about it until now. It was such a little thing--an opening to get to know her and ask her out a second time. When things had gone bad, he hadn’t considered what she’d done with it. Obviously she’d kept it until she moved to San Jose. “What’s your name, man?” Adam asked.

“Ray Rothus.”

“What apartment do you live in?”

Ray rattled off his address. Sure enough; Liv’s old place. His heart hurt that she’d left it behind. The jersey had played such an important role in him seeing her again, and it felt she’d left a part of him behind--like she was really ready to get over him after all.

“Listen, Ray. That jersey is important to me. If I send you a signed replacement, do you think you can forward that back to me?” Adam felt uneasy; he was at a stranger’s mercy.

“So, you’re really him? The Adam Burish?”

Adam grimaced. “Yeah, that’s me. You think you can help me out? Send my girl’s jersey back? She forgot it when she moved.” So it was a little bit of a lie. She wasn’t his girl any longer, but he wished she was.

“This is crazy, man. I can’t believe I’m actually talking to Adam Burish.” Ray sounded excited, and Adam was worried that this was going to end poorly--with him hanging up on the guy and the jersey lost to the him. “Fuck yeah, I can help you out. Can you maybe sign two. My brother will lose his shit.”

Adam almost exhaled sharply in relief. “Sure, man. I’ll send you a couple. When you get them, just send that one back. It’s got... sentimental value.”

“Your girlfriend forget it when she moved out of Chicago?”

“Something like that.”

* * *

There was a good chance he was going to get to play on Sunday for game six against the Kings. His hand felt good and the doctor was optimistic. As soon as coach said to jump, then he’d be out of the ice. It felt good to know he was close to being back after a frustrating two weeks, and it was also good to know that he’d be able to go see Liv on Saturday. They had practice on Saturday afternoon, and he planned on spending that morning at her spot by the beach. Hopefully, she would be there.

Ray, the finder of the jersey was true to his word. Adam sent him two Sharks jerseys and two Blackhawks jerseys, all of them signed, and a overnight envelope to return the other. Anything to get Liv’s back. He’d gotten the package with her jersey in the mail that morning. Adam had pulled it out and ran his fingertips over the ink on the seven, remembering the morning he’d pulled it out of the closet and signed it while she was asleep in her bed. He wished he could live all that again, but this time he’d do it right.

On Saturday morning, he got up early, before the sun rose, and took a quick shower. Then he picked up her throw. It was a little square thing that didn’t even count as a blanket. She’d brought it over to his place one day after she’d complained about her feet being cold when they curled up on the couch to watch a game or movie during his down time. When she’d left, she’d left the throw. When he’d moved, it had moved with him because he couldn’t bear to get rid of it. All her other things had been packed up and removed by a stern Abby and Liv’s best friend Andrea. Andrea had looked at him with barely disguised hatred. Abby had just looked at him like he was a pathetic jerk who’d fucked up his life. He didn’t blame either of them at the time. But they’d left the throw and now he planned on giving it back to her if she wanted it.

He set off for Pomponio State Beach while the sky was still dark and got there just as the sun was rising behind him. She wasn’t here yet, so he carefully laid out the little throw on the rock, rolling the top edge of it into a thin pillow for her head, and then he sat there with his heart in his throat and waited for her to show or not show. There was always the chance that the notes and the music he’d sent her had scared her off. She’d been pretty open about him having no chance with her again. If she thought that’s what he wanted, then she might just stop coming.

Adam couldn’t help himself, though; she was all he really wanted. He stretched his legs out on the cool rock and crossed them at the ankles as he dropped his chin to his chest. And waited. He waited for about a half an hour before he heard movement behind him. The weight lifted off his chest when he realized she hadn’t left him high and dry.

“Good morning, Adam,” her soft voice said as she laid a hand lightly on his right shoulder. “How’s the hand?”

He looked up at her, the morning sky almost cast a halo around her head. Her hair was pulled to the side in a low, loose ponytail and she was wearing a pair of khaki capris with a black shirt. He wanted her so bad. It killed him that he wasn’t allowed to pull her into his lap and kiss her. “Better,” he replied. “Might get to play tomorrow.”

She slid her hand off his shoulder, leaving a trace of warmth where it had been, before she looked at the spot he’d made for her on the rock. “You found it,” she said, looking at the throw.

“I kept it.” Adam swallowed hard and dropped his gaze so she couldn’t see his eyes. “I used to sleep with it every night.”

Liv turned her back on him and walked a few steps away to look up north. Her hands were on her hips, and he wished he knew what she was thinking. It was the truth; after the girls had taken all of Liv’s things out of his apartment, he’d spent the next few weeks sleeping with her throw. He’d even taken it home to Madison with him. After a few weeks, he’d brought home a girl that he met through a couple friends and he’d hidden the throw away so it couldn’t see what he was doing with someone else.

“You giving it back to me?” she asked, her back still turned.

“If you want it. I wouldn’t mind keeping it. It’s all I have left of... you.”

Her shoulders curled into her body, and her head dropped. He was hurting her. Adam felt bad because she didn’t deserve it, but he also couldn’t really help it. He was hurting too. Maybe he was being an asshole. Maybe he should just leave her alone and let her be happy. Without him.

“Are you happy, Liv?” he asked.

“Why do you ask?” Liv’s voice was muffled, like she was trying to keep herself together. He wished she’d turn around and have this conversation face-to-face.

“I don’t want to keep hurting you. If you’re happy without me in your life, I’ll back out. I’ll tell my agent that I’d like to be traded to another team. I’ll stop coming here.”

She sniffed. “I think you know I’m not happy, Adam. But I don’t know that you are the one who could make me happy again. Just because you took it, doesn’t mean you can give it back.”

“Yeah,” he replied softly, hanging his head again. How could one decision fuck up his life so badly? he wondered. Fuck up his life and hers. She didn’t deserve it. “You deserve better than me, Livvy love.”

“Please don’t call me that,” she said, finally putting some strength behind her words. He watched her shoulders pull back and a deep breath expand her back. When she turned around you could hardly tell that she’d been crying. His heart was aching with each beat, a slow, steady, dull ache that made him want to lie down and cry.

“Sorry,” he said. “Habit.”

Liv sat down on the throw and pulled out her phone. She laid his earbud down on the rock between them and fiddled with the screen, pulling up the album she wanted. “You’re right; I do like Luke Bryan’s tight jeans.”

Adam’s sudden bark of laughter almost sounded like a sob. “So predictable, Liv.”

“Mind if we listen to your pick last week again?”

“I’d love that.” He jammed the little thing into his ear and lowered himself onto his back.

“I Don’t Want This Night to End always made me think of you. Not the bad times, but the good times,” she said before she touched the screen and let the first song play.

She was right; that was him when it was good. He’d give anything to go back there and live it all again.

* * *

{Present Day, Late-May 2013}

It was like breaking her heart by increments every single week. Each Friday night she told herself she wouldn't go on Saturday morning. This week she'd even turned her alarm off, hoping she'd sleep through the morning and never have to make the decision. But she'd opened her eyes at five o'clock in the morning and knew she was going to roll out of bed and go. The thought of how hurt he would be if she didn't made her feel responsible.

"Fucking ridiculous," she had mumbled to herself as she pulled on the capris. She didn't owe Adam anything. He was the one who had screwed up everything. Liv wondered how her life would have gone if he hadn't messed up. Would she still be with him? Would she have moved to Dallas when he did? Would she be in San Jose now? Maybe fate thought it'd be funny to bring her back around to the same place just by different means. Two paths that led to the same destination. He'd chosen the shitty path for her--the one with all the bumps.

She sighed as the third song started. He was practically vibrating next to her. It was obvious he wanted to talk; he wanted to lay it all out there and get some sort of resolution. She was feeling weak this morning because the other reason why she'd come every morning without fail was because she liked being with him. She missed him. Simple as that.

Adam turned his gaze back up to the clear, blue sky above them, and she took the opportunity to glance over at his profile. Handsome as always, his hair curling around his ears. "Doesn't your head hurt without a pillow?" she asked over the music.

"Not much. Small price to pay."

Liv tamped down the anxiety that was buzzing inside her, and then she shifted over to the far side of the little blanket. She had forgotten she'd left it at his place a couple weeks after they made it official. It softened her heart that he'd kept it. Like she'd kept the damn jersey until just recently. "Here, I'll share."

Adam looked over, surprise all over his face. "Are you sure?"

"Don't second guess. Scoot over," she told him.

Liv didn't have to say it twice. He pushed himself up and settled on his side on the other half of the blanket. It wasn't very wide, and he was closer than he'd been in a long time. He propped his head up on his hand and used his upper arm for support, his elbow bent as he looked down at her.

It felt like he wanted to kiss her, and a little part of her rejoiced at the thought before the rational side snapped back with the mental picture of the other woman in his bed. The memory was a splash of cold water on her face. She slammed her eyes closed so she didn't have to see the way he was looking down at her like he'd do anything she wanted. She wanted nothing from him.

The fifth song started and she knew that was a lie. She'd always wanted so much from him. "Stop watching me," she said.

Liv felt him retreat just a bit, enough to allow her room to breathe. "Hard not to," Adam whispered. She barely heard it over the sound of the music in her left ear. "This song reminds me of that first Saturday," he added.

"[Drunk on You](%E2%80%9D) reminds me of that night we all went to the park during the playoffs," she said, referencing the song that had finished a few minutes before. The words just fell out of her mouth; she hadn't really thought through what kind of memories the admission would arouse.

"God, Liv," he murmured. "That was an amazing time. I wish I could zap myself back there and live it all again. Remember, we went swimming in the lake?"

"Skinny dipping," she corrected.

Adam laughed softly. “I wonder if your bra is at the bottom of that lake still.”

* * *

{Playoffs, Late May 2010}

They had just swept the conference finals, and all the guys were excited and anxious to get to the Stanley Cup finals. It looked like they'd be playing the Flyers. Adam and Patrick Sharp had organized a little getaway to Starved Rock. They had rented out cabins at the Lodge, and the weather had cooperated with unseasonably warm temperatures.

Liv took two days off work so she could spend some time with Adam and enjoy his undivided attention. They'd brought picnic food and coolers of beer and a few bottles of tequila for margaritas. She'd passed on those because they were using the ice straight from the coolers. Abby had curled her nose up at the idea, too. The boys didn't mind, though; they were having a good time and had not eaten enough sandwiches to counteract the amount of alcohol that had been consumed.

She squealed as Adam grabbed her around the waist and swung her in a circle. He was so much stronger than he looked, and he looked strong. "Come swimming with me, Livvy love," he said in her ear.

Pushing her hands into his hard chest, she laughed. "I didn't bring my suit."

He grinned down at her and moved in for a kiss. He tasted like a margarita--citrus with that sharp tequila flavor underneath. "Me neither," he said when he pulled back.

She found herself following him as he pulled her down a path. The sun had just set, and the sky was darkening quickly. They climbed over a fallen log and left the music and talking behind. Everyone was sitting around in folding chairs and at the park's wooden picnic tables while Adam's truck played the country station. A couple of the guys complained, but most of them just went along with the music even if they didn't like it. A party was a party.

"Where are we going?" she asked, giggling at his urgency. And then she saw the lake and the calm water reflecting the dying daylight.

Adam had already pulled off his T-shirt, and she stared because it never got old. "Go swimming with me," he insisted as he undid his jeans and pushed them to the ground.

"Adam! You're crazy."

He took two steps over to her and slipped his hands underneath her shirt. "Come on, Livvy love. I'll help you."

She let him lift her shirt off and then unbutton her jean shorts so those could fall down her legs. Liv held onto his shoulders while she kicked her shoes off. "I hope it's not cold," she whispered, looking out over the water.

"I'll keep you warm," Adam replied as he pushed his boxer-briefs down his legs.

"Adam! You can't..."

"I can," he said, grabbing her around the waist again. "I'll carry you in if you don't come."

Liv laughed and let him pull her to the edge. He hurried in and dipped his head under. "Is it cold?" Her feet were submerged and it felt a little chilly.

"Feels good," he said, launching himself forward and grabbing her. They fell into the muddy water along the edge, both of them laughing, hands all over each other. He rolled her until she was on top of him.

“You got me all dirty,” she told him with a smile. Her hair was already wet and muddy from wrestling with him.

Adam dug the tips of his fingers into her ass and lifted his hips up to grind himself into her while she straddled him. “Good,” he said. “I want you all dirty. Let’s go out into the water.”

She stood up, almost slipping in the mud, before she waded out far enough that she couldn’t feel the ground beneath her feet. He was right behind her, reaching hands out to grab her arms and pull her back into his grasp. Liv laughed and dove into the chilly water, kicking her feet up and diving down to swim away.

Adam gave chase and finally caught her when she allowed him to do so. His warm body felt nice pressed against hers. She slipped her legs around his waist and let him hold her close, his fingers moving slowly up and down her back while he sprinkled little open-mouthed kisses over her neck and chest.

“I’m crazy about you,” he whispered, his lips pressed against her ear.

Liv felt him working the clasp on her bra right before it fell away from her body. Adam pulled it off her arms and tossed it into the lake. “Adam!” she exclaimed.

He had a roguish grin on his face. “I’ll get you a new one. I need you naked right now.”

“Why do you need me naked?”

One of his hands was palming her left breast, pinching the nipple made hard by the chilly water in the lake. Her lower jaw was starting to quiver now as the temperature set in fully. “I need to be inside you, Livvy love.” He pressed her against him in a big hug. “You’re cold,” Adam added.

“The water is freezing.”

He started drifting them back the edge of the lake, never letting her unwrap her legs from his waist. When they got into the shallow water, he stood and carried her, his hands cupping her ass and her arms thrown around his neck.

“There’s a table by the edge here somewhere,” he told her as he squinted in the dusk. Before she could respond, she felt her back hit the wood and his body over top of her, keeping the cool night air off her skin. Her panties came off in a rush while he kissed her, his tongue sliding sensuously over her own.

Liv could feel his cock harden against her thigh as they kissed, and he ran his hands up and down her arms, warming her in more ways than one. “What if someone hears us?”

He laughed softly. “Be really quiet,” he whispered as he thrust his hips into hers and let his cock slide up inside her more than willing body.

“Oh god, Adam,” she gasped. Liv hadn’t expected him to take her so fast like this. She bucked up into him and dug her nails into the flesh of his upper back. “Yes, like that,” she moaned.

“You like that, sweetheart?” he whispered. “Does that feel good?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me. Tell me how I feel.”

“You make me feel so... full. I can’t... I need more.”

He bore down harder on her, pumping his hips faster until she was a quivering, sobbing mess. “Make me come,” she begged him. “Please, Adam. I need it. I need you.”

“I’m all yours, Livvy love. Always. Forever.” And then he lifted himself up a bit and stroked her clit with his thumb. All it took was one swipe and she was trying to choke back a scream as she came so hard she was sure the table had fallen out from beneath her and she was just floating in the air in his arms.

She heard Adam growl deep in his throat before his strokes became uneven. He jerked in her arms and unloaded himself deep inside her while she clenched down on him with her muscles. “Goddamn, Liv,” he said between deep breaths. “You’re going to kill me.”

* * *

{Present Day, Late-May 2013}

Liv opened her eyes and looked up at the brightening sky to clear the memories from her mind. Memories of Adam promising her forever while he was making love to her on a wooden picnic table by the lake were too much to handle. The album was almost over, and she was still in her own world, wishing things were different. Wishing she could forgive and forget and allow him back in her life like he’d been before that night had happened.

She missed everything about him. From his wild hair to his devilish smile to the way he could make her laugh about pretty much anything to the way he used to wake her up with sex more mornings than not.

The last song on the album was playing, and Adam was still on his side, his head resting on his upper arm. This was one of the tracks he’d mentioned in his note to her, and it was heavy and filled with angst and loss. Almost overwhelming, she thought as it continued to play her heartstrings.

“Jesus, Adam,” she whispered. “Did you turn into a teenage girl with this mushy, lovelorn shit?”

“What?” he asked, lifting his head to look at her.

Liv let a smile creep across her lips as she raised her brows at him. The music swelled into a beautiful chorus. It was too much, too dramatic. He was such an easy going guy, not the type filled with this bittersweet longing. “Drama llama?” she asked.

Adam smiled and then started laughing. She couldn’t stop herself from doing the same. They both rolled onto their backs and let the giggles overtake them. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so hard and so freely--probably with him that night after the sex by the lake while they tried to find their clothes in the dark and talked about her bra that was floating out on the water. The memory made her laugh harder, curling into his body and pressing her forehead into his shoulder.

“Fuck you, Liv,” Adam said as he tried to catch his breath. “I’m trying to be serious here. I miss you.”

“I know, I know. I’ll get you some emo music when you run out of country,” she replied between giggles.

“God, I missed this,” he said, catching his breath finally. “I missed this so much.”

“Me too,” Liv replied, pulling back so she wasn’t touching him any longer. “But I should go.” Reality was setting in. She couldn’t stay here or she’d do something regrettable.

She rolled over on her back and folded her hands over her stomach. His shoulder pressed against hers when he settled down on his back and mimicked her position. They both sighed and looked up at the sky.

After several minutes, he spoke up. “Same time, same place next Saturday, Liv?”

“Probably,” she said. And then she stood up and straightened her clothes. “Good luck tomorrow.”

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he replied, looking up with shining eyes, the skin around the edges of them crinkled up in happiness.

* * *

{Present Day, Early June 2013}

While watching the nightly news on Tuesday, she saw that the Sharks had lost the series against the Kings. Liv couldn’t bring herself to tune in for a game, but she couldn’t help checking the score when the sports segment came on. It was a shame because she knew how much it meant to him. She even came close to calling him that night and Wednesday morning when she was getting ready for work. But she didn’t.

When Saturday rolled around, she got up without a question, slipped on a pair of shorts and a tank top, and drove the hour to Pomponio Beach. His truck was in the lot and he was sitting on a blanket just a few feet from the front edge of the rock--the edge that jutted out over the wet sand. He was in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt with his shoulders hunched over. The baseball cap on his head was turned around to shade the back of his neck from the sun that had just risen behind them.

“I’m sorry,” she said, putting a hand on the crown of his head before he turned around.

Adam looked up at her and smiled. “It’s okay. I get to start summer early. I think it’ll be a good one.”

“Always so positive,” she said, sitting down on the blanket next to him before she noticed that he’d brought her a little travel pillow for her head. Things like that made her weak for him. Not declarations of love, not tears, not promises--just the fact that he cared enough to bring her something that would make her more comfortable. She bet he didn’t even know what he was doing when he made thoughtful gestures; he was just being himself.

“Always next year,” he said.

“Have you thought about life after hockey?”

He looked over and lifted up his brows. “Are you calling me old?”

Liv laughed lightly. “No. Just wondering what you’ll do when you retire.”

“Haven’t thought much about it. Maybe something in the music business. Concert promoter or agent.”

“Not a country music star?” she asked with a grin.

“You’ve heard me play guitar. I suck.”

Liv shook her head. “You do not suck. Might need a lot of practice though.”

“Thanks for that vote of confidence, Liv,” he said in his self-deprecating tone.

She reclined back and shifted onto her side, pulling the pillow closer so she could rest her head on it and watch him. Adam looked over his shoulder and decided to lie down on his back so he could turn his head toward her. Their faces were only a few inches apart, and Liv felt it was both nerve-wracking and like coming home after a long time away.

“Tell me about your job,” he said softly, watching her with wide eyes.

Liv groaned. “It’s a struggle.” When he didn’t respond, only stared at her with expectancy, she continued. “They forced me into relocating, kinda left it unsaid that if I didn’t go that I’d be laid off. Now that I’m here, they’ve upped my production quota. Which means I need to do better than I did in Chicago with a network of doctors I don’t know nearly as well. Sometimes I feel like they’re trying to get rid of me.”

“That sucks, Liv.”

She sighed. “It is what it is. I got a raise out of it, but I think it was more like a cost of living adjustment. Chicago is expensive, but San Jose is nuts.”

“Yeah, I’m living near the arena. It’s pretty expensive if you want a nice place.”

Liv chuckled. “Don’t commiserate, Mr. Million-Dollar-Contract.”

“Almost two million, I’ll have you know,” he replied with a grin.

Liv widened her eyes in mock surprise. “Moving up in the world, Adam. Next thing I know, you’ll be making as much as Kaner.”

A short bark of laughter popped out of his mouth. “Naw, I’m never making as much as that little shit. Gotta work for my salary since I’m not one of the golden boys.”

“You do a great job,” she told him, meaning every single word of it.

“So do you. I’m sure you’ll muck through it, Liv. I’d miss our Saturdays if you moved back to Chicago.” He shifted a little closer. It wasn’t much, but she could feel the heat off his body. “How do you like San Jose?”

How did she like it, she wondered. She wasn’t really sure. In four more months it will have been a year, and she still felt a bit out-of-place. “I don’t know,” she said, honestly. “I’m still trying to find my place.”

“Where are you living?” His eyes were expectant. He wanted to be let in, to know more about her life.

“Just a little south of the city proper. The company I work for set me up with the apartment before I moved. I’m not sure I’ll stay there for another year. It’s a little overblown for me. Roman columns and fountains and a huge pool where a bunch of trust fund kids lie out in the sun everyday.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “Different culture out here.”

“How was Dallas?”

“Okay. An adjustment from Chicago. I missed the guys and... well, you.”

Liv met his gaze. He looked so serious. “We only knew each other for about four months.”

“How long doesn’t matter. I would have missed you after a month. Feels like you’re in my blood sometimes.”

Her stomach was filled with butterflies. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I know the feeling.”

"Still carrying a torch for me, Liv?" he asked, his voice joking and playful.

It wasn't a joking matter. "Probably always will. Shame you messed it all up, Burish."

He sighed heavily and adjusted the cap on his head. "Believe me, sweetheart, I know. I know how big of a shame it is. Every single day."

"How are things going with the Sharks? They gave you a raise, apparently. Dallas was giving you, what a mil and a quarter?" Change of subject, business talk. It was safer.

"Little less. Things are good. Trying to gel with the team, fit in in the locker room."

"You never had a problem with that."

"I'm a friendly guy."

She smiled at him. "You're a ham, always looking for the attention."

He turned onto his side so he was fully facing her. "Hey, I'm growing up. Trying to pick and choose who I want the the attention from."

Liv looked at him, unable to keep the warmth for him out of her eyes. "It wasn't an insult. I think you're great, Adam."

He smiled at her, flashing white teeth and dropping his eyes shyly. "You trying to get in my pants, young lady?"

"Been there, done that," she said with a grin.

Adam threw himself onto his back and laughed from his belly. She couldn't help but laugh along with him, watching the tendons of his neck as they extended out into his shoulders and collarbone. His arms were tan and muscled and gorgeous. She missed the way he used to touch her. Any guy since Adam had paled in comparison to his looks and his energy and his humor.

When he quieted, he looked over at her and said, "Can we listen to the Kip Moore album again? I really liked it."

* * *

"Hold on, let me put on Maddie so you can say hi."

Liv waited while Abby shifted the phone, and then heard her friend tell Maddie to say hello.

"Hey, baby girl!" Liv said. "What have you been up to? Keeping mommy and daddy on the run?"

Maddie babbled some nonsense and then Abby came back on the line. "I swear she remembers your voice. I have the smartest child ever. She's obviously going to be a prodigy."

Liv laughed and shook her head. "How have you been?"

"Good. Pat is crazy stressed. He's got Cup fever again."

"He's kicking ass, though."

"Oh god," Abby said, "don't tell him that. I don't need him getting a big head. Hey, what's been up with you? I haven't talked to you in forever. Did Adam ever show his face at your spot?"

"Yeah, about that..." Liv said.

"What about that?" Abby asked, excitement in her voice. "Spill it, Olivia. Gimme the dirt."

"He showed up a few weeks ago--maybe a week after we talked about it."

"And?"

"And he's been coming every Saturday."

"And?"

Liv chuckled. "And what?"

"Well, how do you feel about that?"

"I don't know. It's okay. Hard sometimes and good sometimes. I've missed him."

"He's missed you, Liv."

“Yeah, I gathered. He couldn't come for a couple Saturdays because he was working. So, he sent a courier with a note and some songs for me to listen to on an iPod each time."

Abby was quiet for a minute and then she said, "Are you serious?"

"So serious."

"Wow, I'm impressed. I thought he'd just chase you around and beg you to forgive him."

"We haven't talked about it much, actually. We've just listened to music and stuff."

"But he's coming every Saturday. That's big."

Liv lined up the three pens on her desk, fiddling with them when she said, "Well, probably not for much longer. He always goes back to Madison for the summer. And the Sharks are out, so he's probably on his way there."

"Did he tell you he was going last Saturday?"

"No, but he didn't say anything about seeing me this Saturday."

"You sound disappointed," Abby said.

Liv felt her walls go up. She wasn't disappointed. She didn't depend on him coming. She'd been going for months before he even came into the picture again. "I'm not disappointed."

"You are."

Was she? She thought of going to the beach and seeing no truck in the parking lot, imagined sitting by herself there and listening to a music all alone. "Fine. Maybe a little. I miss him, Abby."

"Maybe he'll be there."

"Doubtful."

* * *

Liv stood in the parking lot beside her car and felt the disappointment skitter across her mind. He wasn’t there. His truck wasn’t in the lot. He’d obviously gone back home for the summer. If she was lucky, she’d get a box with an iPod every Saturday. Liv frowned and shook her head. If she was lucky? She didn’t even really want to talk to him. He’d cheated and messed up their good thing, and she didn’t need to start pining after him again.

For a moment, she almost got back in her car and turned around, went home, crawled back between the cool sheets of her bed. Instead, she squared her shoulders and marched across the street and down the sandy shoulder of the road to where it gradually turned into rock.

As she crested the top of the sloped rock, she was looking at her feet, thinking about how she needed to get over him and what they’d had. How she needed to make an effort to date and make friends in San Jose. How she needed to stop thinking about him, period. And then she looked up and saw the blanket and the little pillow from last week. And him. Sitting there like he’d never left.

“Adam,” she said, surprised.

He looked over his shoulder. “Hey, Liv.”

“I didn’t think you were here; your truck wasn’t in the lot.”

“It’s in the shop. I’m having a couple things done to it, so they gave me a rental. It’s one of those Smart cars. I look ridiculous.”

She smiled at him. “Seriously? You’re driving one of those tiny little Smart cars that maybe fits one person?”

He pointed at her. “Don’t make fun of me.”

Liv walked over and sat down beside him on on the blanket. “What’s all this?” There was a large bowl of fruit and a plate that held two bagels with lox covered by plastic wrap.

He handed her a plate and a plastic fork. “Breakfast. I know you hate eating when you first wake up, so I’m betting you don’t eat before you come here.”

The fact that he remembered so many things about her, found those tidbits of her life and personality important enough to commit to memory, softened her even further in his favor. “You’d be betting right,” she said, taking the plate and the fork so he could scoop some of the fruit out of the bowl and onto her plate.

Liv unwrapped the bagels and took one. Bagels were a guilty pleasure--bad for you, but so tasty. She’d never seen Adam indulge in one, but he took a generous bite out of his before digging into his plate of fruit.

“I thought you’d be in Madison by now,” she said, licking errant cream cheese off her fingers.

“Why would I be in Madison?”

“Summer break. Family visit. Two or three months of country summer concert extravaganzas. The usual.”

He bit into a strawberry. “I’d rather spent Saturday mornings with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think I’ll stay here for the summer. Get used to San Jose.”

Liv was surprised at his answer. She hadn’t expected that. “Adam, you shouldn’t stay here for me. There’s nothing between us keeping you here.”

“I’m staying here for me.” He took another bite of the bagel and licked the cream cheese off his lips. “You tired of our mornings together?”

She shook her head slowly. “No.”

“You picking the album or am I?”

“Got something special in mind?” she asked.

“Jason Aldean?”

“Are you going to add a song to your mental mixtape?”

Adam smiled at her. “What are you talking about?”

Liv rolled her eyes and popped a little piece of pineapple in her mouth. He knew what she was talking about, but he was playing dumb. “Your PS in each note. Your mixtape.”

“Just Passing Through,” he answered.

She nodded to him. “Go on with your ulterior motives.”

Adam chuckled and pulled his phone out, navigating to the music player and taking her earbuds to plug them in. “You can at least let me think I’m being slick,” he said.

Liv took the earbud he offered her and put the last piece of her bagel and lox in her mouth. “I see through you, Burish. You’re like the Wizard of Oz.”

“Hush, Livvy lo...” Her stern look cut him off before he could finish saying the term of endearment. “Sorry,” he said, “habit.” The music started, and she finished her fruit.

Adam took the plate from her and moved everything over to the side so she could stretch out on her back. She closed her eyes when he settled down beside her. There were points in the past couple weeks that when she closed her eyes, she could imagine the film being cut and spliced back together. Cut right before the night he’d had too many drinks and cheated, all that hurt and those two years going into the trash bin so the present could be spliced in--flying high off a win in Chicago and then they were spending the summer here together. Still in love, but able to touch each other without the heaviness of the past weighing on them.

Jason Aldean was one of his favorites. Back when things were good, he’d told her so many times that he wanted to take her to one of Aldean’s outdoor concerts over the summer. The way he talked, he made her think it was probably the most wonderful time ever--something magical, lightning in a bottle.

She knew when the song he’d mentioned started because he turned onto his side and lifted a strand of hair off her shoulder, laying it down with the rest of it spread out over the blanket. Adam looked like he was prepared to kiss her, but he wouldn’t presume if she didn’t give him a sign that it was okay. And she wasn’t going to give him the slack because she’d end up hanging herself.

The song was sweet--sung by a guy who was telling a woman he’d be there for her as long as she wanted him to be, all the while hoping she allowed him to stay indefinitely. She felt that weight on her chest and almost met his gaze so he could have the permission he was looking for. She knew he’d be on her in a second, hands on her hips, knee between her legs, as he kissed her until she couldn’t breathe.

That wasn’t right, though. She couldn’t let him do that. She’d decided they were done. He’d already passed through and gone on.


	4. Chapter 4

{Present Day, Late June 2013}

Despite telling herself that her time as Adam’s girlfriend was over, Liv still couldn’t stay away on Saturday mornings. With or without her alarm, she woke up early without fail and went to meet him at their place. It had been her place for months, but now she couldn’t call it that any longer because he’d made it into something more. He’d brought breakfast the past two weeks, and he never looked for praise or approval from her. It didn’t feel like he was doing it to convince her to take him back; he was just doing it because that’s who he was.

At night when she was alone in bed, her room dark and her mind wandering, she thought about forgiving him. Really, she guessed she’d already done that by opening up to him again and spending a couple hours with him each week. Forgetting was another matter. Some things just couldn’t be forgotten. She wished she could, though.

And then there was work, which was not going very well. She felt like her head was on the chopping block almost every day. Long hours and frustration were wearing her thin, and the only thing she’d been looking forward to was seeing Adam. The entire office had just come out of a meeting in which they discussed a dinner for some of the doctors they often dealt with. Her boss had talked two players for the Giants into attending. The official reason was to talk about a new anti-inflammatory and how it could benefit athletes. The real reason was schmoozing. They were the celebrity draw to get some of the doctors into the dinner. A player for the Sabercats, the arena football team, was also scheduled to attend.

During the meeting, her boss had laid out Thursday night’s itinerary and lamented over the fact that he hadn’t been able to secure anyone from the Sharks. Not for lack of trying, though. He’d reached out to the team and a few individual agents of players, but everyone was out of town for the summer or didn’t respond to the request for an appearance. It was made clear that if anyone had any connections to pull any member of the Sharks into the dinner, then the firm would be grateful.

Liv kept her mouth shut and left the meeting with her head down. She went straight to her windowless office and shut the door. She couldn’t ask him to come to the dinner for her. It was wrong; it would be taking advantage of his kindness and their past. It would be leading him on just because she needed a boost at work. It was a bad idea.

Then again, he owed her for all that shit she’d gone through after his little indiscretion. It was purely a professional dinner, so he couldn’t think that she was asking him out. If she was upfront about everything, then he could make an informed decision about whether he wanted to come or not.

After far too many minutes performing mental gymnastics over the question of whether or not she could call Adam, she decided to go see her boss and ask him what sort of incentive he’d give if she could get a Shark into the dinner. She’d had a review with him not too long ago, and her sales numbers were fresh in his mind. They weren’t bad and were on par with what she’d been doing in Chicago, but the company had been pushing their sales reps to work harder and be more productive. Liv felt it was unreasonable, but she was just a cog in the machine.

His answer had been that he would hand off a significant portion of another book of doctors to her if she could deliver. Fresh meat would definitely help her production out. Liv walked back to her office and sat in her chair for twenty minutes just staring at her computer monitor, then the pencils in the cup, then the cell phone on the corner of her desk. She really shouldn’t. It wasn’t fair.

She picked up the phone and dialed his number. It rang three times, so she prepared to leave a voicemail.

“Liv?” He sounded confused and there was a roaring noise in the background.

“What’s that noise?” she asked.

A moment later it cut off and she could only hear a few voices--men laughing and then a splash. “I’m out on the bay with a couple buddies. We’re wakeboarding.”

“Oh,” she could feel her cheeks flush. She shouldn’t have bothered him. “I’m sorry. I’ll let you go. You’re having fun with friends.”

“Liv,” his voice was strong and serious. “I answered my phone because I wanted to talk to you. Don’t hang up on me.”

She sighed. “I interrupted. You can call me later when you’re done.”

“You hear your boy’s new song?”

“What boy?”

“Luke Bryan,” Adam answered.

Where was this going? she wondered. “Yeah, I’ve heard it.”

“That’s me all over, sweetheart. If you want to call me, then call me. Anytime. I’ll always answer for you.”

She almost swooned in her chair. Liv really wished she could forget about that night and just let him win her over again, but it wouldn’t be fair to either of them because she’d always be paranoid he’d cheat again. He’d have to live on such a short leash that even the best boyfriend would begin to resent it.

“Stop trying to be cute. I’m calling you so I can use you.”

The sound of something dropping reverberated through the phone and then some of the background noise went away. “Oh yeah? I’m willing to be used. What do you need?”

“We’re having an appreciation dinner for some of the doctors we deal with, but it’s really to push a new anti-inflammatory medicine. My boss snagged two Giants and a Sabercat as special guests at the dinner to draw in the docs. He tried to get someone from your team, but everyone either turned it down or is out of town.”

“Yeah, I got a call and I said no.”

“Oh, okay.” Her heart dropped a bit when she realized her scheme wasn’t going to work. “Nevermind then. See you on Saturday?”

“I didn’t say no to you, Liv. Why are you calling and asking me to go, though?”

“I was promised part of the book from someone they just laid off. Look Adam, it’s really shitty of me to ask you to do this. You said no, and we should keep it at no. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll do it. Just tell me where I’ve got to be and when.”

Liv swallowed the lump in her throat. “Really, it’s fine. It’s just going to be this stuffy dinner. I don’t even want to go, so I know you don’t want to go.”

“Sweetheart, you know I’d do anything for you, right? Anything. Tell me where to be and what time.”

“It’s tomorrow at seven o’clock,” she said, cringing.

Adam’s voice was soft when he replied. “Done. I’m all yours for the night. Tell your boss I told everyone no except for you. Tell him you deserve what he promised you.”

“Adam....”

“I don’t want anything in return, Liv. I just want to help you out because you helped me out. There were a lot of nights that I came home feeling like shit and you made me feel a million times better. I want to pay that back.”

“Okay,” she said, swallowing the emotion that was crawling up her throat and making her eyes sting with tears. “I’ll e-mail you the details. See you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow, Livvy.” He cut himself off abruptly, not saying the last part of his little nickname for her. It sounded odd without the love at the end. She pulled her phone away from her ear and disconnected.

* * *

She saw him the second he walked in the door. He'd gotten his hair trimmed; it was still shaggy, but it looked nice slicked back. He had an expensive black suit on with a crisp white shirt and a black tie. Formal and classy and so unlike his personality. He was blue jeans and laughs, not posh suits. One second he was looking down at the pricey dress shoes on his feet and the next second his eyes were sweeping the room as he turned on the charm. She admired him for his ability to turn on like that. She had to do it for her job, but it could be hard.

"Shit, that's Adam Burish," she heard one of her co-workers say. "We totally stole him from the Stars."

Liv smiled.

"Olivia," her boss said, walking up to her. "I don't know who you know, but wow. He actually showed." She'd had no doubt. Of course he showed.

"I knew him when I lived in Chicago," she said.

"He told us no before you asked."

Adam appeared from behind her boss. "I owe Liv a million favors," he said, moving to standing beside her. "You look pretty tonight, Livvy," Adam said softly, dipping his head down closer to her.

She tried to prevent the blush from coloring her cheeks, but there was no stopping it. Her boss raised his eyebrow and then held his hand out to Adam. They shook while Liv pulled in a deep breath. He was so perfect. Everything but that one night was so perfect. Even now he was perfect. Well, except that he left dirty clothes all over the floor. The man didn't know what a clothes basket was.

She'd decided on a light green satin dress with a swirling black design that curled around the skirt and up to the bodice between her breasts. The sleeves were capped and the dress fell to her knees. It was form-fitting, but classy. Appropriate for a work dinner. Her hair was up in an intricate design that she couldn't have accomplished on her own. Normally she wouldn't have gone to a hairdresser just for a dinner, but she had this time. Deep down, the reason was Adam. Liv wasn't willing to admit that though.

"You look good, Adam," she told him as she placed a hand lightly on his back.

"This woman here is a catch," Adam told her boss. "I bet she's your star sales rep. I've never seen someone work harder." Liv would have cringed at the over-the-top praise, but Adam made it sound sincere and absolutely true.

"Oh, I know it," her boss said, nodding his head eagerly.

"Mr. Betar?" a woman in a server uniform said from the side.

Her boss looked over and nodded before turning back to them. "Nice to meet you,” he told Adam. "We appreciate you attending. I sat you with Olivia and a few of our best doctors."

Liv's eyes widened. She hadn't anticipated sitting with him. When Mr. Betar left, she looked up at Adam. "Star sales rep?"

He smiled. "It's the truth. I'm glad I get to sit with you. If I'd have known that, I would have agreed the first time they asked." His hand came up to run fingers over her hair and all the hairspray and bobby pins keeping it in place. "Did you do this for me?" He was just joking around, not knowing that he'd hit the nail on the head. She had.

"I sure did."

"It's pretty. But you know I love your hair down."

"Such a simple man," she teased.

"The simplest," Adam agreed. "I don't need a lot." He left what he needed unsaid. She didn't want to speculate because knowing him lately, he'd say all he needed was her and then she'd get weak in the knees. "So, who am I schmoozing for you?"

Liv stuck the tip of her tongue out at him.

"Do it again and I'll kiss you," he warned.

There went her knees. Weak. He knew exactly what to say, and it was alarming because she didn't think he was calculating his moves to get her into bed. It seemed like he knew that wasn't going to happen, but his affection for her came through anyway. That was what made her really want to take him back home and give up on being upset with him, give up on being broken up.

And then she remembered that morning when he'd been clueless and hungover and naked in bed with another woman. Steel went up her spine right as the wave of disappointment washed over her. Nope. Forgive but not forget was a saying for a reason. The former was done, but the latter was just not possible.

"No kissing. There and there." She pointed over to a couple men who were talking by the bar of the private dining room the company had rented in the downtown hotel and a woman in her sixties who was taking a glass of champagne off a waiter's tray. "Those are you first three marks. Dr. Brancaza likes hockey, so she'll be easy."

"Let's start with her then," he told her. "Come on."

* * *

{Present Day, Late June 2013}

Adam’s eyes kept going back to her and the way wearing her hair up made her neck look long and elegant, the way the satin hugged her body. He remembered running his hands up and down her as they made love in his bed. How many times had he taken her? So many, but not enough.

Liv was shaking hands with a man who had short, dark hair and was in a suit. He was probably in his late thirties--a good-looking guy with a strong jaw--and he was flirting with her. Adam wondered if Liv knew that the doctor she was sweet-talking wanted to have sex with her. It made him uncomfortable and angry and jealous. Fuck that guy.

She nodded politely and moved to greet the next person at their table so they could all sit down and eat. Adam peeled away from the couple he had been talking to and met Liv by her chair. His name was on a card next to hers, and he was looking forward to sitting beside her for dinner and breathing in her sweet perfume while he remembered the way she’d always stood on her tip-toes in his bathroom so she could get closer to the mirror when she put on her make-up. And the way she looked when she washed it all off and slipped between his sheets with not a stitch of clothing on so he could touch every inch of her smooth skin.

“He wants you,” Adam said under his breath when they sat down.

Liv’s eyes were wide. “What? Who?”

“Doctor Love over there you were just talking to.”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s married.”

“So?”

“So, he can take a flying leap. Only creeps stay on the prowl after they get married, and I’m not into creeps.”

“Good. I was getting jealous of that clown,” Adam admitted, laying the napkin out on his lap.

Liv did the same before she looked at him. “Why are you jealous?”

“I’ll always be jealous of whatever guy you let into your life.”

She gave him a stern look, lips pursed and eyes dark and unhappy. “That’s not healthy.”

“That’s the truth. Doesn’t mean you can’t live your life. Just means I’ll always have a hard time seeing you with any other man.” It took a lot out of him to admit it and concede that he couldn’t keep her from dating, even if he couldn’t see her with anyone but himself.

“Then why are you hanging around me?”

“Because you’re worth it.”

“Am not,” she said after the waiter sat a plate in front of her.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Adam said.

After they ate dinner and talked to the other eight people at their table, Adam swept around the room again. He smiled and laughed and joked and shook hands. And he told everyone who would listen that the brunette in the green dress was the smartest, hardest-working, most exceptional woman in the world. Anything to help her out. It wasn’t hard because it was all true, every single word.

He felt her hand on his shoulder as he was saying goodnight to a husband and wife, both cardiologists. The husband was a fan of the Kings, but Adam didn’t hold it against him. Much.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “That was more than you had to do.”

When he turned to face her, her hand dropped away. He wanted it back, needed the weight of it on his body to make him feel like she was here and real. After his time in Dallas, he’d given up hope of ever seeing her again. And he’d certainly given up hope of ever being able to spend time with her without one or both of them crying or yelling. He had come a long way. They had come a long way. “It was nothing,” Adam finally told her. “I’ll walk you out to your car.”

“I just need to tell my boss I’m leaving,” she said.

Adam felt like his entire body was buzzing. She agreed to let him walk her out. Maybe there was hope after all. He’d spent all this time just trying to make up for the past, not thinking any of it would lead to anything in the future. Liv was gone for only a handful of minutes. He spent the time fiddling with his cufflinks and imagining a goodnight kiss.

“Ready?” he asked when she emerged from the only table that had people left at it. It was mostly employees who had stayed after the guests cleared out.

“Ready,” she agreed, following him out the door and across the street to a parking garage.

“What would you do without me? Who’d walk you to your car?” he asked.

Liv chuckled. “I’d walk myself.”

“You look gorgeous tonight, Livvy. Good job making me feel like an asshole who fucked up the best thing he had going in his life.”

She smiled softly at him. “I miss you too, Adam.”

The garage was cool and dark and packed with cars from the hotel they’d just come from. It was well after ten o’clock, and most of the travelers were tucked away in their beds on this Thursday night. He wished he was tucked away in her bed. Fantasies started racing through his mind. Pushing her up against her car and kissing her until she told him to get in so they could go home. And then she’d fall into her bed with him on top and he could take off her clothing, one piece at a time, before he made love to her all night. Maybe not all night, but a good part of the night, he thought.

Suddenly, Saturdays just weren’t enough. He needed more, wanted to know she still cared about him--that he still mattered.

“This is me,” Liv said, hitting the remote on her keychain and making the taillights of the blue sedan blink. She turned around to face him. “Listen, thank you for everything tonight. You went above and beyond, and I’m so grateful.”

“It was nothing, sweetheart. Only what you deserved.” He was just a couple feet from her, and her lips looked so inviting--plump and still stained with a light red lipstick.

Liv put a hand on his shoulder, coming up on her tip toes. His breath froze in his throat as she brushed a light kiss across his cheek. Adam closed his eyes and curled his fingers into his hands so he didn’t reach out and grab her. “Thank you anyway,” she whispered.

And then she was gone, sliding behind the wheel of her car and turning the engine over. Adam felt like his heart had gone with her.

* * *

Getting home nowadays wasn’t a problem. Retrieving his car the morning after a night of partying had never been at the top of his list, and now it wasn’t something he worried about. He’d just gone out with a few of the guys who were in town for a couple days. They’d bar hopped through about four places that Friday, but he was still sober. One beer at each place, no hard liquor. He’d made the decision back in early May when he’d met her at the place in Pomponio Beach.

The only real rule was no hard liquor because that was where all the trouble had started. Beers were fine, but hard liquor just led to more drinking and more drinking led to some really regrettable shit. Like one of the worst fucks of your life breaking the heart of the woman you wanted to make happy.

It hadn’t been hard. Beer was social and after a few he had that little bit of a buzz that made a night pleasant. By the time midnight rolled around, he bowed out. He needed to be up in a few hours to meet her at their spot, and that was more important than whatever pool match was going on at the bar. He hadn’t been tempted by any women either. Chances were, he’d never get Liv back, but for now he wasn’t in a hurry to find his future one and only. He just avoided hooking up with anyone. It wasn’t hard when he thought about her and how he really only wanted her in his bed.

His rental condo took up a good part of the seventeenth floor of the downtown building. It was quiet and dark when he walked in. The windows that lined the wall let in the ambient light of the city--lit squares of windows in office buildings that had cleaning crews working in them, streetlights, stoplights. The soft glow reflected off the hardwood floors. He dropped his keys on the counter and kicked off his shoes.

It was amazing how quickly people adjusted to change. He’d met Liv and she’d started staying over at his place in Chicago, putting her little girly shit all over his bathroom sink and a few items of her clothing in his drawers. It had been easy to adjust and accept that when he came home sometimes, she’d be there. When he’d moved to Dallas and stayed in that sad little place by the river, he’d adjusted again, learned that when he came home she wouldn’t be there. But now that she had one foot in his life, his mind was struggling, longing. Each time he walked through the door, he was disappointed that the television was off, the lights were out, the place was dead quiet. His keys sounded harsh against the counter when he put them down.

Adam pulled off his shirt and then undid his pants so they could fall to the ground just inside his bedroom door. She’d always shamed him for leaving his dirty clothes everywhere, but she’d go behind him and pick them up. He smiled at the memory, and then the smile faded when he looked down at his pants on the floor and realized that’s where they’d stay until the laundry service came knocking and he had to rush to throw everything in the bag.

It was almost one o’clock when he dropped into bed to find some sleep. Just as he was drifting off, his phone rang. He knew it was her without even looking at the screen. He’d told her he’d always answer--another promise he wouldn’t break. His phone defaulted to vibrate, but her number would always ring, and it would ring loudly. Adam swallowed his heart, which had jumped into his throat, and picked up.

“Liv,” he said.

“Hey, you’re awake.” She sounded tired.

“I told you I would always answer for you.”

She just laughed softly. “I, uh, was prepared to leave a message. It’s late.”

“What’s up?”

“I don’t think I’m going to make it tomorrow. To Pomponio Beach.”

Now his heart was in his feet. Why was she backing out on him? Had he done something wrong at the dinner yesterday? “Tired of me?” he asked.

“No, no. I think I caught a bug or something. This morning I woke up feeling like shit. By the time I got to work, I was out of it and they sent me home. My fever is pretty high and driving an hour to the shore just doesn’t seem like a good idea.”

Adam sat up in bed, the sheet pooling at his waist. “No, you should stay in bed and get well. Do you need anything?”

“No, I’m fine. I’ve been taking Tylenol for the fever, but it’s not working. There’s a little convenience store about a mile away that will deliver, and I’ll ask them to bring some cold and flu stuff." Her voice was filled with exhaustion.

“Tell me where you live, sweetheart. I’ll bring you something.”

“It’s late, Adam. Don’t be silly. I’ll be better in a couple days.”

He swung his legs out of bed and reached for the closest pair of pants. “Don’t make me put a trace on your phone. Tell me where you live. I swear I won’t harass you. Just medicine and whatever else you need.”

“It’s really not a big deal. I’ll be fine.”

“Olivia.” He knew he sounded like someone’s dad when he said it, but he needed her to let him help. He’d never sleep tonight if he knew she was alone in her apartment with a fever.

She sighed and several long seconds of silence ticked by before she told him her address. Adam repeated it twice so it was committed to memory and told her he would see her in a few minutes.

“The passcode to the gate at the entrance is my birthday,” she said. “One zero...”

“Twenty-two,” he’d interrupted. “I remember.” As soon as he hung up, he pulled a T-shirt on and grabbed his keys and wallet so he could head out the door.

There was a twenty-four hour pharmacy a couple miles from his apartment and, conveniently, in the direction she lived. He swung by there and picked up three different kinds of medicine and bottled water. It took him another twenty minutes to get to her place. She was south of the city and probably worked out this way, too. Inconvenient for them if they ever reconciled. Fighting traffic to get to her during the day would be a pain in the ass.

Adam shook his head as he pulled into the gated apartment community. He didn’t need to be getting his hopes up. Maybe she’d forgiven him, but she probably wouldn’t ever forget what he’d done. Her passcode worked like a charm as the gate rolled back and allowed him to enter. He drove around the loop of apartment buildings twice before he finally saw the number on the side of hers.

She answered the door within just a few seconds of his knock, but she looked so tired. Her hair was tangled and her eyes looked almost haunted. Although, he couldn’t help but slide his eyes down to look at the little pair of cotton shorts and the tank top that almost bared her midriff. She wasn’t wearing a bra because he could see her nipples poking through the top. Down, boy, he thought. She’s sick.

“Livvy, you look bad.”

She forced a smile and a half-hearted laugh. “Thanks, Adam. Always trying to make a girl feel good about herself.”

He hooked the plastic bag on his arm and pushed the door shut behind him. “I think you need to go back to bed,” he told her as he stepped forward and scooped her up--one arm cradling her back and the other beneath her bent knees. Instinctively, her arm went around his neck.

“Stop,” Liv said. “I’ll get you sick, too.”

“I have an immune system of steel. I won’t get sick.” He glanced over the apartment--beige carpet and a nice window to the right overlooking the edge of a dimly-lit pool. The kitchen was to the left, separated from the living area by a large granite island. The light over the stove bathed everything in yellow. “I’m guessing the bedroom is this way,” he said, walking deeper into the apartment toward a short hallway.

Liv sighed and laid her head on his shoulder as her other arm came up to circle his neck. A shot of protectiveness and pleasure went through his body. He was holding her again. Sick or not, it was a victory. "You're being so ridiculous," she said softly, "But this is so nice."

Her bedroom was dark and the sheer curtains were pulled over the windows. She still had that four poster bed that she'd had years ago when they'd been together. It was messy--the sheets all twisted up with the duvet, pillows askew. The nightstand had an empty glass, a bottle of Tylenol, and crumpled tissues all over it.

Adam laid her down on her side of the bed. He remembered what side she always slept on very well. "I brought water and medicine," he told her, pulling out a bottle of water and setting it on the nightstand. The medicine came out next, and then he filled the empty bag with her tissues.

"Who knew you were such a good nurse," Liv said, sitting up in bed and reached for the bottle of liquid cold and flu medicine. It was bright green and looked disgusting.

"Just for you, Livvy." He took the bottle from her after she'd dosed herself and put it in the bathroom across the hall with the two boxes of pills he’s bought. He stood there for a moment, looking at her face soap and her lotion, the basket of makeup and the nail polish remover, the toothbrush and tweezers. And then he looked up into the mirror at himself, his hands gripping onto the vanity where the sink dipped in.

One time, a couple years back, he'd hooked up with a woman who had spent a couple nights at his place. The second night he'd come out of the bathroom to find her with Liv's throw in her hands. She said she'd been looking for something to keep her feet warm. Adam had snatched it from her and swallowed the words he'd wanted to say. He'd wanted to tell her that she had no right to touch something that was Liv's. He'd wanted to ask her if she understood who that throw belonged to, and if she did, then why was she holding it so casually? Instead, he'd told her he was tired and showed her to the door. She'd never gotten another call from him.

It all flooded back, and he stood there, looking at the vanity and all the little things that belonged to her, the things she populated her life with. Three tubes of mascara. Adam wondered why she needed three. It really didn't matter; she could have six if she liked. He just wanted her to be happy, and he wanted to be happy, too. But each time he saw her, it was becoming more and more clear that he'd only be happy with her.

He flipped the switch off and went back into the bedroom. She had rolled onto her side with the blankets pulled up tight around her. "I'm guessing it's not cold and this is just the fever," she said.

Adam sat on the other side of the bed and turned to face her. "You'd be guessing right."

"Thank you for your help," she said softly, looking up to meet his eyes.

He couldn't stop himself at that point; he just slipped into the bed, leaned back, and moved over to her, closing the empty space between them.

"Adam, no. You're going to get sick."

"No, I won't," he said. And then he wrapped his arms around her, her feverish little body fitting against his just like it always had.

She stilled for a moment, letting him hold her. Gently, he pressed a kiss on the top of her head, inhaling the smell of her hair. It wasn't until then that he felt her shaking; it was more than shivers from the fever.

"Livvy, what's wrong?" he asked, pulling back so he could see her face in the dimness of the bedroom.

Her eyes and cheeks were wet with tears. She tried to turn her face away from him, but he caught her chin in his hand and kept her there.

"Talk to me," he whispered.

She shook her head and closed her eyes. "I miss you, and now you're here, and this is all I've wanted for the past three years. But, I, I can't because I can't forget. I'd always just wonder if that's what you were doing. You'd go away on road trips, and I'd just drive myself crazy because the first time is the hardest and after you do it once, it's easier to do it again."

He felt like his heart had just broken into two pieces. She wanted to take him back, but she couldn't because he'd done something that made her question his loyalty, his fidelity. No amount of promises would change the cold, hard facts of what had happened.

To top it all off, he was still hurting her. By being here and drinking in his fill of her, he was stepping on the heart he cared about the most.

"I'm sorry, Livvy love. I know you can't forget. I can't forget either; believe me, I've tried. I had too much to drink that night and things were crazy. I don't even remember the ride back to my place, but I remember thinking of you, wishing you were there. I'm not just saying that; you have to believe me. The whole thing was a sick blur. I only ever wanted you. But I know you can't forget; I don't expect you to."

He pulled in a deep breath, inflating his lungs as he looked down at her red nose and teary eyes, the thin line of her mouth as she struggled to keep her composure.

"I'm upsetting you. I'll go in the living room. You can pretend I'm not here, but if you need anything, just yell out," he said, disengaging from her and moving off the bed. Slowly, he walked out of the bedroom and into the living area. He stopped and leaned his arms against the wall, pressing his forehead into them. Adam made sure to keep his mouth shut as his back jumped in silent sobs. He didn't want her to hear him crying because that would just make her feel worse.

* * *

{Present Day, Late June 2013}

Liv fell into a fitful, restless sleep filled with strange dreams that made no sense and only served to make her feel anxious. When she woke, it was morning. The light from her window looked like early morning sunlight--before eight o'clock for sure. She felt much better than she had when she’d closed her eyes. The sheets were tangled, and she assumed her fever had broken in the night.

It wasn’t until she sat up on the edge of the bed and tested her ability to walk to the bathroom that she remembered Adam had come by last night. Him carrying her to bed and holding her and the way she’d broken down all came rushing back. Liv wondered if he was still in her apartment or if he’d left early this morning.

Shuffling to the bathroom to get her legs working again, she ran her fingers through her hair and pulled out the tangles before she brushed her teeth and washed her face. After her morning rituals had been completed, she felt much more human and capable of dealing with the man she was hopelessly in love with. If he was still in the apartment, that is.

As it turned out, he was still there. Sitting on the end of her cream couch, a little slouched down with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. His arms were crossed loosely over his chest and his feet were kicked out under the coffee table, crossed at the ankle. Typical Adam. The enforcer even in his sleep. She used to make fun of him for looking so stern in his sleep, like he was going to throw a punch while dreaming.

The end of the couch was against the wall, and the length of it extended out across the floor, serving as a barrier between the dining area and the living room. She walked around to look at him and the way his chest moved up and down with the rhythm of his breaths. He’d been so amazing to her lately. Really, he’d always been amazing, but lately it was more consistent. He’d become her reliable rock in a life that had been in low-grade turmoil on the social and career front. Three years ago she would have never thought he’d be asleep on her couch while she watched him with absolute love in her heart.

Love with a dash of sadness because she still didn’t know how to get past that one night. Liv walked back around behind the couch to start a pot of coffee in the kitchen. Sometimes he liked to have a cup when he woke up. Instead, she stopped directly behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder. His skin was warm beneath the fabric, so she held her breath and slipped her hand down, running it up under the collar of the T-shirt and down over his hard chest.

She could feel his heart beating beneath the rise and fall of his chest. Instinct told her to slide her other hand over his other shoulder and kiss his neck. If she gave him the opening, he’d take it and probably pull her over the back of the couch so they could make love right there. But just like every time she imagined sex with him, she thought of the blonde hair and fake tits peeking out from beneath the sheets that morning and her desire cooled down.

She watched as his eyes fluttered open and looked up at her, adjusting to the daylight streaming through the window across from him. He uncrossed his arms and placed a hand on hers, pressing her palm firmly into his chest. “Hey, sweetheart,” he said in a rough, sleepy voice. “Are you feeling better?”

“Much better. Thank you for last night. You really didn’t have to, though.”

“Anything, Livvy. Anytime. That’s the way it will always be.”

She was overwhelmed with his dedication to being there for her. He sounded like he meant it, and he’d been proving it by consistently showing up every Saturday, by always taking her calls, by doing pretty much anything she asked. She wondered if she asked him to drive up to San Francisco and jump off the Golden Gate Bridge if he would do it. She’d never ask, though. The world needed Adam Burish. SHE needed Adam Burish.

Liv lifted her free hand up and dragged her fingers through his hair. He made a little whimper of pleasure as he tilted his head into her hand and closed his eyes. She ran her nails lightly over his scalp. This was his weakness. If he came home wound up or upset over a game, this was all it took to bring him down. She wondered if all the other women he’d spent time with knew that.

“That feels so good, Livvy,” he mumbled, opening his eyes to look up at her.

“You’re too easy to please,” she said in a teasing voice.

“Just for you, sweetheart. I’m just easy for you.”

Liv swallowed the lump in her throat. What girl didn’t want to hear the guy she loves say those words? “You think sweet-talking me will get you somewhere?” She let a smile play around the edges of her mouth when she asked the question.

Adam looked up at her and smiled--genuine and loving and breathtaking. “Just telling it like it is,” he said. “You’re one of a kind. No one else touches me like you do.”

“Abby said you were dating a girl at the beginning of the year. She didn’t do this for you?” Liv ran her nails over the back of his head and down his strong neck. She felt him shiver under her touch.

“Never,” he whispered, closing his eyes again. “It’s always only been you, but I understand how things are and that you can’t just forget about what I did. So, I just want to be here when you’re okay with it. I’ll take whatever you want to give.”

She really wanted to hand it all over to him again--her body, her mind, her heart. Risk and reward kept running through her head. Would the reward merit the risk? Maybe. Could she get naked with him again without imagining him with other women? Maybe not.

“We’ll see how things go, Adam,” she said, gently massaging the back of his neck. His muscles were all bunched up and tight, probably from sleeping in such an awkward position.

When she looked down at him again, his eyes were open and hopeful. “You’re not telling me no?”

Liv shook her head. “I’m telling you we’ll see how things go.”

“When we were together, I never said I love you. But I did; I still do.”

He looked so serious, like he was scared out of his mind, and it made her weak for him. “You still didn’t say it.”

“I love you, Olivia.”

Liv smiled down at him. “I know, Adam. I know that’s why you always called me Livvy love.” Gently, she slid her hand out of his shirt and let go of his neck. “What do you want for breakfast?”

“For you to sit your pretty little ass down and let me make it for you.”

She threw her head back and laughed at him. "I don't know. I think your cooking skills are suspect. Last time you made pancakes, they were black."

He pushed himself off the couch and came around to where she was standing. "They were dark brown. Well done."

"Burned."

He stuck out his tongue and walked into the kitchen, standing there with his hands on his hips, looking at the cabinets. Liv knew he was thinking about where she'd put everything. He had been familiar with her kitchen in Chicago, but that had been years ago. She wondered how well he knew her, so she kept quiet and scooted onto one of the stools at the island.

Adam opened the fridge, bending over to look inside as she shamelessly checked out his ass and the way his pants were pulled tight over it. When he stood up, he had a pack of turkey bacon and a carton of eggs in one hand, and then he spun around and opened the bottom cabinet just to the right of the sink to pull out a couple of potatoes. The food went on the counter so he could move over to the stove and pull open the cabinet to the right where he found two skillets.

As if his intuition wasn't already enough to impress her, he opened the upper cabinet by the fridge and found the olive oil, salt, and pepper. Not a misstep. She smiled when he turned around and looked at her. "How'd I do?" he asked.

"A plus."

"You're predictable. You know you rearranged my kitchen when we were together? I had to relearn where everything was."

"I did not!"

"You did," he said, putting the skillets on the stove top and taking the potatoes over to the sink to wash them. "Over the course of a couple months."

Liv slipped off the stool and went over to her stereo. It took up the middle shelf in the bookcase. Everyone downloaded music nowadays, but she still liked to buy the physical CDs. There were a few recent purchases piled up in a tower on the shelf. Blake Shelton's new one was on top, and she put it into the CD tray. When she looked over her shoulder, Adam was watching her with his eyebrow up. "It's Saturday morning. We're just in a different location,” she explained.

"Let me guess before you press play."

Liv turned to face him and hid the case behind her back, one hand on her hip as she gave him attitude. She wasn't that predictable.

"Three guesses," he told her. "Luke Bryan, Blake Shelton, or..."

"Bullshit," she told him before he cold finish.

"Did I get you?" Adam asked. "Shelton?"

Instead of answering, she pressed play and listened to him laugh. The noise made her grin as she moved back to her seat. He was dicing the potatoes. "Can we talk about your clothes?" she asked.

Adam stopped what he was doing and glanced down at what he was wearing. "Better not," he said.

He was in a pair of blue dress pants, a pair of black sandals, and a purple T-shirt. His hair was a mess, sticking up here, there and everywhere. "What were you thinking?"

"I was in bed when you called me. I grabbed the closest pants and shirt on the floor."

"Still not using your clothes basket?"

He tossed the cubed potatoes in the skillet and drizzled some oil on top. "Nope, no reason to since I'm a bachelor. I'll take my clothes off if they're distracting you," he said, looking over his shoulder after he seasoned the potatoes and covered them with a lid.

"Maybe the shirt. It really clashes with those pants. And the sandals because... well, yuck."

He kicked the sandals off and scooted them up against the baseboard so they were out of the way. Liv tried to keep her face straight when he grabbed the back of his shirt and flipped it right over his head, throwing it in her direction. "Yes, ma'am," he finally said as he turned back to the food so he could lay the bacon out in the second skillet.

He was in great shape--as good or better than when he'd played in Chicago. His back was all muscle, toned and covered with tanned skin. She'd always loved his arms the most because they were muscular, but not too bulky. Perfect. He was perfect. Liv picked his shirt up off the counter and smelled it. It was mostly the scent of him, no cologne or soap. She felt that tension in her abdomen because she was still conditioned to associate that scent with great sex. Before he caught her lusting over him, she laid the shirt down on the stool next to her and leaned forward to watch him.

He was trying to impress and she was letting him. He didn't need to move like that and show off the way his muscles flexed and the way his arms bulged when he turned the pepper cracker over the eggs that he'd dropped over the browned potatoes. But he did anyway because he knew her well enough to know she was admiring him.

"You couldn't have got much sleep last night," she said.

"A few hours. I checked on you around three I think I passed out right after that."

"I feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

He popped two slices of wheat bread in her toaster before he turned around to look at her. "I want to be taken advantage of by you. Makes me feel good. So, keep doing it."

She didn't respond, just watched him finish breakfast and pile two plates with the food. He must have worked on his skills over the last three years because everything was perfect and delicious. "This is amazing, Adam. I shouldn't have doubted."

"This can be our new thing. Me cooking you breakfast every Saturday morning," he said, pointing at the stove with a piece of bacon.

"After you sleep on my couch?"

"Or on the floor in your bedroom if you'll let me."

She laughed and shook her head. "You're ridiculous." The album had ended and cycled back around to the beginning. Sure Be Cool If You Didstarted to play again. "This is my favorite song right now," she told him.

"I knew it! When I heard it for the first time, I knew you'd glom onto this one. So predictable, Liv."

"Maybe you just know me really well."

He glanced over at her, a soft smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Maybe I do. I feel like I always have. I feel like you knew me before we met."

"I did. I had a crush on you for a few years, Mr. Hockey Star."

"No, knew ME. That's why I left my number on the jersey in your closet. I was hoping you'd call me."

"How could I have not?"

"Made me wait a few days, sweetheart."

She smiled. "I was nervous." The jersey. She'd left it in the apartment. After all this time, she didn't have it. When she moved, she felt like it had been the right thing to do, but now she regretted it. "I left the jersey in Chicago," she admitted, looking away from him as the smile faded off her face.

"Why?"

"You know why."

"Do you regret leaving it there?"

"Yes. It was my lucky jersey. Even if it was defaced by all that black marker on the back. You know, you never gave me a replacement like you promised when you called me back that first time."

"What if I could get it back for you?"

"What? The old Blackhawks jersey? I left it in my apartment back there."

Adam finished his food and pushed his plate away. "I think fate with a little help from yours truly might be able to help you out. The jersey is back at my place. The guy who rented the apartment after you called the number on the back. I gave him four signed jerseys and he sent yours to me.”

Liv raised her brows. "Serious?"

"Serious. I was going to be creepy and keep it because it was a piece of you, but if you want it back, then it's yours. Just say the word."

She didn't even think about her answer; it just popped out of her mouth. "I want it back."

* * *

{Present Day, Early July 2013}

He wanted to lean over and kiss her so badly. Her hair was falling down her back just like he loved, and she was in those little cotton shorts and a thin tank top. If he stared hard, he could convince himself he could see her pink nipples through the white fabric. Her face was fresh, free of makeup and absolutely beautiful. He wanted to taste those lips again, but he didn’t want to overstep the boundaries that had been put in place by his actions, especially when she had woken him with a hand underneath his shirt and a promise to see where things went.

He needed them to go in the direction of her bed so they could exercise that ghost between them, so he could could show her how much he loved her. Then they could pick up where they’d left off, and he could do it right this time with all that maturity he’d gathered over the past three years.

Adam was glad she wanted the jersey back. It meant he had a good chance at winning her over again. “I’ll bring it over next Saturday. Or earlier if you’ll see me before then.”

“Next Saturday,” she said. “I’ll make sure I have stuff for pancakes, and you can redeem yourself for the burnt ones all that time ago.”

“Deal.”

After he cleaned up the kitchen and put all the dishes in the dishwasher, he settled down on the couch beside her. She had her knees pulled up into her chest and her little toes that were painted fire engine red were curled up into the cushion. The music was still playing, and she was humming along with the melody. He walked over to the stereo and flipped through her CDs. Predictable Liv. She had a sweet spot for men in tight jeans who sang love songs.

“Mind if I switch it? I have a song I want to add to the mix tape.”

“It better not make me cry,” she warned.

Adam looked over his shoulder and winked at her. “Maybe it’ll make you swoon.”

“Oh god, I’m in trouble. Go ahead and play it.”

He stuck the Brantley Gilbert CD in and skipped to the fourth track. The vocals started right away, and when he turned to look at her, she had a wide smile on her face. Her eyes were sparkling at him, and Adam felt like he could get down on one knee right then and there and ask her to marry him. The urge scared the hell out of him. Getting her to take him back was one thing, but marriage? He’d spent most of his life thinking he probably wouldn’t ever do that. She was the exception, though.

“I love this song,” she said when he sat down beside her.

“That’s because it’s about you.”

Her laughter was music to his ears. “Which is so surprising because I’ve never met Brantley Gilbert.”

“You’re never going to. I’m going to keep him away from you because I want you to myself.”

Liv rolled her eyes and leaned into him so she could rest her head on his shoulder. Adam closed his eyes as he shifted his arm behind her to wrap around her shoulders. She settled her head into his chest like there hadn’t been three years and a world of hurt between them. He wanted to go buy her a ring right that second. Maybe she’d say yes.

* * *

He hadn't seen her in three days. Three days was a long time when the last time had been so good, filled with hope and intimacy. Sitting on the couch with his arm around her and watching the palm trees outside ruffle around in the breeze was more intimate than sex with most women.

On Tuesday morning, he got up and went for a run. Before he hit the gym, he went home and burned a single song on a blank CD and then took it to a florist a few blocks away. The place was stuffed with flowers of all kinds and colors, but he wasn't overwhelmed because he knew exactly what he wanted.

"Pink tulips," he told the woman behind the counter when she asked what he was looking for. "As many as you have and in a vase. I want them delivered with this."

She went into the back and came out with a tall green crystal vase filled with long-stemmed tulips, some light pink, others a deep pink that bordered on red. They were perfect, and he knew Liv would love them because they were her favorite flower. Despite the length of time they'd been apart, every little piece of information he'd ever filed away in his mind about her came rushing back to the forefront.

"What do you want on the card?" the florist asked.

"No card. She'll know who it's from."

After he arranged for the delivery, he hit the gym and suffered through one too many reps in the weight room. He was working with two different trainers this off season--not his normal guy because he didn't go home for the summer. But that was okay because he'd rather spend some time with her. Just after noon, his phone rang and he lifted himself out of a squat so he could answer.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said when he accepted the call.

"What are the flowers for?"

"Nothing. Anything. Just wanted you to know I was thinking of you, and I was hoping they'd get me a phone call before Saturday."

She laughed softly, and he could just imagine the little blush on the apples of her cheeks and the way she sunk her teeth into the corner of her lower lip when she was trying to be cute. "I fell right into the trap, then."

"You did. Did you get the list your boss promised you?"

"Yes, thanks to you and your dazzling skills at charming every single doctor in that room last week."

"Good. Did you enjoy Jake Owens? I figured he was up your alley since he's got tight jeans."

Liv laughed again. "Don't make fun of me. If I didn't know how to appreciate a man in snug jeans, then you wouldn't have ever gotten in my pants. I loved the song."

He'd sent her Jake Owen's Easy Does It. It was a soulful, playful little song about taking it slow and enjoying spending time with someone. He was willing to take his time with her now. They'd rushed into it the first time around. She'd almost been a one-night-stand. Just the idea of that blew his mind. Liv was NOT a one-night-stand. She was meant for forever.

"So, when I left Saturday morning, we didn't really agree on what the plan for this coming Saturday is. Am I still making you pancakes in your kitchen?"

"If you do it shirtless with tight jeans on," Liv said. He could hear the grin in her voice.

The comment made him smile. "Done. But you have to promise me you'll wear that little nightie with the lace down the front."

"You'll be able to see my underwear."

"Exactly," he replied.

Liv chuckled. "Fine. But you're not getting lucky. Easy does it."

"I wasn't expecting to. I just miss seeing your panties."

"Hush. I'm at work. See you Saturday morning?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said before wishing her a good day and slipping the phone back into the top of his gym bag.

"Get your ass in gear, Burish," Mark said, looking at Adam with his hands on his hips. "And wipe that shit-eating grin off your face. You've got two more reps before we do suicides."

Wiping the grin off his face wasn't really going to happen.

***************************************

He had a plastic grocery bag with strawberries, blueberries, and a can of whipped cream because he was betting that she remembered the pancake mix, but not the good stuff. Adam spent all Friday night thinking about when he should show up at her place. Was six o’clock in the morning too early? What about seven? Should he wait until ten? If he did, would he catch her in her nightgown? Would she wear what he’d requested? Probably not. But that was okay because he’d stick with his end of the bargain anyway and cook her pancakes without a shirt if that was what she really wanted.

He decided on seven because he couldn’t wait much longer. The sun had risen and the air was cool, even for early July. Shifting anxiously, he waited for her to answer the door. When she did, he rocked back on his heels.

“Livvy,” he said, his eyes widening. She was wearing the nightie he’d asked for--the black one that fit like a second skin and had a panel of sheer lace about four inches wide running down the front. It allowed for a tantalizing glimpse of the swell of her breasts, her cute belly button, and the black bikini undies she had on underneath. It was something he’d seen before, but it had been a long time. And back then he’d enjoyed taking it off her. This time around, he wasn’t allowed.

She stepped back and let him inside before shutting the door. She was playing the Jake Owen album he’d pulled the song off earlier in the week, and the blinds on the window were halfway closed. Fuck the pancakes, he thought. He just wanted to lie down the couch and touch her, run his hands up and down the curves of her body and then let his lips follow behind.

“I kept my promise,” she told him, flipping her hands out and showing him the nightie like he hadn’t already seen every inch of it since he walked in the door.

“Me too,” he said, pointing down at his jeans. They were uncomfortably tight--a pair he rarely wore because they were just too much, too ridiculous.

Liv doubled over in laughter. “Oh, wow, Adam. Those are... tight.”

“And I’ve got the good stuff here,” he told her, holding up the grocery bag.

Liv took it from him and looked inside while he looked at her and the way the nightie hit her mid-thigh. The jeans were going to be a problem if she was going to actually parade around in that little nightie and get his blood pressure up. His dick had no room to grow down the leg of his pants.

He watched her ass as she carried the bag around the island to put it down on the counter next to the box of pancake mix. When she turned back around to look at him, he tried to cover up his blatant staring by pulling his shirt over his head. For a fleeting moment, he saw heat flash in her eyes. He knew that look well, and he wanted to see it again.

“You’ve been hitting the gym,” she said, dropping her gaze to the floor at his feet.

“Always do. And I took up yoga.”

That got her attention, and she looked up at him again. “Bullshit. You always told me no when I asked you to practice with me.”

“Well, I always just liked to watch you in those tight little pants. That was why I never did it with you.”

Liv rolled her eyes and grabbed a dishtowel off the counter to throw at him. It smacked against his bare chest, and he caught it before it hit the floor. Adam walked around the counter and bent over to pull out a skillet for the pancakes, making sure she could see his ass.

“Good lord,” she said, hands on her hips. Adam stood up and looked over his shoulder with a grin. “Your jeans might be one size too small. I’m having hot flashes.”

“I’ll take ‘em off if you want.”

“No, no, no. Don’t tempt me. We’re supposed to be easy does it and all that good stuff. I don’t even know if I can...” The smile on her face at the beginning of her comment was gone by the time she trailed off. She didn’t need to finish it, though. She didn’t even know if she could take him back and get over the mental hurdle.

“I know, Livvy. I’m not expecting anything from you. Just let me spend some time with you now and then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, scooting up onto a stool so she could watch him make breakfast.

* * *

He was the happiest he’d been in a very long time. This time with her was worth working out twice as hard on Sunday mornings. Their empty plates were in the sink, covered with remnants of maple syrup and whipped cream. The air conditioner was providing a gentle whir of white noise in the silent apartment because the music had stopped hours ago. Adam’s back was pressed against her couch and she was spooned up in front of him. He had his arm around her, holding her tight to him so she wouldn’t fall off the edge.

He didn’t know what time it was, but he also didn’t really care. Her body was lifting and falling in rhythmic breaths as she slept in his arms. After breakfast, they had sat down on the couch, side-by-side and listened to music and talked about her life and his life since their life together had crashed and burned. He told her about Dallas and his decision to sign with San Jose during free agency. There had been some other teams interested in him, but he felt like the Sharks were the best fit. Luckily, they had offered the most money as well.

Talking shop with a woman wasn’t something he normally did. Girls were for fun times, not disclosing his career aspirations and how he made the decision to spend the next four years of his life in a city where he knew almost no one. Liv had always been different, though, even from the first night. They hadn’t even talked much that first night, but he’d known by the way she looked at him that she wasn’t just another woman that was going to parade into and out of his life.

Her hair smelled like lavender. She must use the same shampoo, he thought, tilting his head to get a better whiff of the heady scent. It only served to tighten his pants as his dick strained to break free of the confines of his jeans. At least they were tight enough to keep her from getting poked in the ass. That wasn’t the best way to wake up an ex-girlfriend who was on the fence about whether she wanted to take your sorry ass back.

Liv shifted in his arms. “What time is it?”

“No idea. I took my watch off when I was cooking.” Adam closed his eyes and hoped she wouldn’t jump up and leave him.

“How long have you been awake?”

“A few minutes. Pancakes always make me sleepy.”

She yawned and pushed back into his body. “Me too.”

Adam wondered if the feeling in his chest was heartburn, a heart attack, or just old-fashioned love. Probably the later. “I love you,” he whispered in her ear.

“Hush,” Liv said, running her fingertips down the arm he’d wrapped around her waist. “You’re not allowed to say that if we’re not dating.”

He smiled. “Why not?”

“Because it makes me have warm and fuzzy feelings toward you.”

“I plan on saying it all the time, sweetheart. Get used to it.”

She was quiet for a minute, her little body so still in his arms. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking because all he could see was the back of her head and all that gorgeous hair. “What if I can’t get over it, Adam?”

The question felt like a punch to the gut. Yeah, what if that? He was letting everything ride on the assumption she could move past it and accept him back into her life as something more than a friend. Hell, he’d been ready to propose last weekend. He still was if she’d just say yes. “I’ll take whatever you want to give, sweetheart.”

“What if it’s nothing?”

“Can we just pretend it’s something for a little longer? For me? Because I am the happiest I’ve been in the past three years right now.” He almost cringed at the raw emotion in his voice, the pathetic pleading he’d been reduced to when it came to this woman.

“Let’s go back to sleep for a little bit,” she said softly as she laced her fingers with his over top of her abdomen.


	5. Chapter 5

{Present Day, Early July 2013}

“Andy? Andrea? Are you there?” Liv looked at the screen of her computer. The right half of it was just a black square. The top of Abby’s head was in the other square to the left. Skype was supposed to be easy to use, but Andrea had always been technologically-challenged.

Just when Liv was giving up hope, Andy’s face popped up. “Holy shit,” the woman said, “this webcam actually works.”

Abby heard the noise and sat up. She’d been playing with Maddie in her bouncer chair that was sitting just out of view of the camera. “What’s this conference about, Liv?” she asked.

“I need guidance and no judgement.” She knew she shouldn’t be nervous to tell her friends that she had spent most of Saturday morning and part of the afternoon sleeping in Adam Burish’s arms, but she was. They’d been there after she’d ended things with him, and she didn’t want them to think she was a weak idiot for considering taking him back. It was just that it had been almost a week, and she could still feel the warmth of his body behind hers.

“Adam,” they both said in union.

“Shut up,” Liv told them. “You’re both so creepy.”

“Spill it, Livvy love,” Andrea said, using Adam’s term of endearment as she leaned closer to the screen and camera.

“So, we’ve been spending Saturday mornings together.”

“Yeah, we know,” Abby said, making a motion with her hand to get onto the good stuff.

“And a couple weeks ago I was really sick, and he pretty much strong-armed me into giving him my address so he could bring me medicine.”

“That was decent of him,” Andrea said.

Liv rolled her eyes. “So, he slept on the couch that night and cooked me breakfast the next morning.”

Abby’s eyebrows were almost to her hairline.

“And he came back last Saturday and cooked me breakfast again.”

“Did you let him stay the night? Did you fall back into the trap?” Andy asked, eyes wide and her lips pulled into a tight line.

“No! God, Andy! Give me some credit. I’m the one that got screwed over way back when. I’m not jumping in the sack with him.”

“But you’re thinking about it,” Abby said.

“I still love him.”

Andy snorted. “He’s a massive dick. I can’t believe you’d even consider getting back on that ride. Once a cheater, always a...”

“Cheater, I know,” Liv finished. “It’s just that he’s been so there for me lately. He hasn’t pushed, hasn’t asked for anything. Plus, he cooked me breakfast shirtless.”

Liv watched Andy’s eyes widen. “Oh, well. That’s a whole different ballgame.”

All three women burst into laughter. When Liv looked back up, her two friends were both smiling, but she could feel the grin drawing the corners of her mouth up begin to fade. “Look, I need your honest opinion. If I think he’s changed or changing--not just because he says he is but because he’s showing me he is--then am I crazy for wanting to give him a second chance?”

She was expecting an immediate “hell no” from Andy, but didn’t get one. The woman sat there in front of her computer screen and chewed on her lower lip while she considered the question.

Abby shifted in her chair and cleared her throat. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but Pat told me something interesting yesterday.”

“What?” Liv asked.

“A couple of my girlfriends and I went on a spa trip with the kiddos earlier this week, so Pat flew out to LA to meet up with Adam on Monday. I swear those two are so gay for each other. They went shopping together.”

Liv and Andy both laughed.

“Anyway, they went out to eat on Monday and stopped by Pat’s friend’s bar.”

Liv felt her stomach turn over. She was about to hear that he hadn’t changed at all--that she’d just been fooled into thinking he had. Was he secretly hooking up with other women while he threw his bait out to catch her? It didn't sound right; Adam was a lot of things, but he wasn't that.

"Pat was going to order a couple whiskeys for them since it's this fancy whiskey bar, but Adam told him he wasn't interested. Said he hasn't been drinking hard liquor for the past couple months."

"What?" both Liv and Andrea said.

"Honest to God truth," Abby replied. "He had one beer and went back to the hotel with Pat at nine o'clock. I got a call the next day from Pat asking if you had taken Adam back."

"Why?"

"Pat said he didn't talk to any women, wasn't interested in drinking more than a couple beers, and that he said you two are on speaking terms again. Pat just assumed he a taken man again."

The piece of information from Abby made her heart pound harder in her chest. He hadn't told her he had cut most of the drinking out. He hadn't told her he was acting like he had a girlfriend. She'd just assumed he was carrying on as usual on the days of the week she didn't see him.

"This is interesting," Andrea said, propping her chin up on her closed fist. "He didn't tell you any of this, Liv?" Liv shook her head. "I'm not in the Adam Burish fan club, but I'm impressed," she continued. "Sounds like he's trying."

Liv felt light-headed. Why hadn't he told her? It was something to brag about, something that would make her think better of him, get him back in her good graces. "I just don't want to be the dumb girl that gets burned twice by the same guy."

"Do you think he'll do it again?" Abby asked.

"Do you?" Liv countered.

Abby shrugged. "I don't know him like you do. But I can tell you that he was really torn up when all that happened and he signed the contract with Dallas. Pat was worried about him back then. I believe he regrets what he did, not just that he got caught. There’s a huge difference between the two."

"Once a cheater, always a cheater?" Liv tried, looking back and forth between Abby and Andrea.

"Do you think he'll do it again?" Andrea asked, repeating Abby's question.

Liv sighed and thought hard about her answer. Would he? He'd been nothing but dedicated to her since she agreed to talk to him again. He'd proven it every single chance she gave him. Sending a messenger when work prevented him from meeting her on Saturdays, staying in San Jose when she knew he'd much rather be back home in Madison for the summer, helping her out at work with that terrible dinner and actually being happy about it, taking care of her when she was sick and sleeping on the couch, not drinking liquor when liquor played a significant part in their breakup.

"I've been thinking about risk and reward a lot," Liv admitted. "I guess there's always a risk that he'll do it again, but there's a risk that any other person--even someone with no history of cheating--would do it."

"So, what's the risk? Ten percent? Twenty?" Andy asked.

"Honestly, deep down, I feel like it's pretty low. Especially if he's serious about the no liquor thing."

"And the reward?" Abby said.

Liv felt the burning sensation in her sinuses and eyes that always came before she started tearing up. She looked up at the ceiling. "I love him. I get to be with the person I love."

"Livvy," Andrea said. The softness in her voice cut into Liv's heart. She could handle a lot of bullshit, but not someone who was showing her compassion. Not hard-nosed Andrea who had been close to taking out a hit on Adam Burish a few years back.

"Am I dumb for still loving him?"

"No," Abby said.

"Not at all," Andy added. "Just see where things go. You don't have to call him up and tell him you'll take him back. Make his ass work for it a little more."

Liv laughed as she dabbed her index fingers under each eye, wicking away the tears before they made her mascara run. "He's working pretty hard. On Saturday he brought strawberries and whipped cream for the pancakes he made me. And we might have taken a nap on the couch together."

"You whore," Andy said with a grin. "You just wanted to touch up on him."

"Maybe a little," Liv admitted with a sheepish smile.

Abby and Andrea both laughed at her.

"When we woke up, he kissed me on the forehead and asked if he could make me eggs benedict next weekend."

"Did you say fuck yes and tell him to do it naked?" Andrea asked.

"Yes. Except for the naked part."

"He'd do it," Abby said, unable to stop giggling at the idea.

* * *

She opted for pajama shorts and a little button-up shirt with pale blue stars on it Friday night since he'd be stopping by the next morning. Just as she was getting ready for bed, washing her face and brushing her teeth, she heard her phone ding from the bedroom. Before she laid herself down in bed, she checked her messages.

**_ADAM: I might be sitting in your parking lot being super creepy. If you'll let me sleep on the couch tonight, then call me. If not, just ignore me and I'll go away in fifteen._ **

For a brief moment, she considered ignoring the message. But this was Adam and she really wanted to know about the not drinking bomb that had been dropped on her by Abby. So, she called his phone. He picked up after the first ring.

"I didn't intend on coming here, but I picked up the ingredients for breakfast and my car ended up at your place instead of mine."

"Come inside, Adam."

He hung up, and she walked over to the door. She swung it open as he was coming up the walk, two plastic grocery bags in his right hand. He was in a pair of green plaid, linen shorts and a white polo. Much preppier than he normally looked, but just as gorgeous. She tried not to stare as he smiled at her and slipped inside the apartment.

“Those shorts are really short, Livvy,” he said, moving into the kitchen. She looked down at her pajama shorts. He was right; they were pretty skimpy, but that was to be expected since they were for sleeping.

“They’re pajamas. No one is supposed to see them.” She followed him into the kitchen and watched as he put the food away. “You get lonely over at your place?”

“Yes, I’d much rather be here if you’ll let me be here. I’ll sleep on the floor; I don’t care.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “I have a perfectly good couch.”

Adam turned around to face her, his hands on his hips. “Were you going to bed? I interrupted, didn’t I?”

“Maybe a little.” The way his face fell made the steel in her spine weaken. “Hey, why don’t you come watch a movie with me in bed.”

“You’re okay with that?” He looked like he didn’t want to move or agree to anything because he didn’t want to rock the boat with her.

Liv smiled and held her hand out to him. “Yeah, I’m okay with that.”

He slipped his hand into hers and let her lead the way into the bedroom. “What are we watching?” he asked when she let go of his hand to turn on the flat screen on top of her chest of drawers.

“Whatever you want. I have On Demand. We’ll rent something.” Liv looked behind the TV and found the remote before she crawled up onto the bed and slipped her legs under the turned down covers. When she looked back up at Adam, he was staring at her with wide eyes, his arms slack at his sides. “Are you coming or not?”

Her question knocked him out of the trance he looked like he’d been in, and he moved toward the bed. “Am I going to get in trouble if I take my shorts off?” he asked as he kicked the sandals on his feet off.

“Just as long as you leave your underwear on and keep your hands to yourself.”

Adam flashed her a grin and a wink. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, dropping the shorts and pulling the shirt over his head.

Liv’s mouth went dry at the sight of him--all toned, tanned, and sporting just a pair of white boxer briefs that barely left anything to the imagination. His thighs were bulging and his stomach muscles were defined enough to show off the V that pointed its way down to his groin. “Oh,” she said softly when he caught her looking her fill.

“Are you objectifying me?” he teased.

“You make it hard not to,” she said, watching him slide into bed next to her. Like old times. Except back then, he’d have her in his arms already, and they’d probably make love before they fell asleep to old sitcom reruns on television.

Adam laughed softly and took the remote out of her hand. “Can I drive?” he asked. When she nodded in assent, he pulled up the movie rentals and scrolled through them. “What do you want to watch?”

“Oceans 11 so George Clooney and Brad Pitt can take my mind off Adam Burish,” Liv replied, not missing a beat.

He looked at her for a second before bursting out into laughter, rolling onto his side and holding his stomach. “Oh, Livvy love, I missed the hell out of you.”

“I missed you, too. Probably not as much as you missed me, though. I mean, I did have Luke Bryan and Kip Moore to keep me company. They sang me lots of love songs.”

“Hush, Livvy. You’ll make me jealous,” Adam said with a smile, and then he pushed play to start the opening credits of Oceans 11.

* * *

{Present Day, Early July 2013}

He was in his underwear, and he was in her bed. Two things that he didn’t ever think would happen together. Her body--a body he was very familiar with--was a foot away, and she’d already scooted down to let her hair spread over her white pillow case. As much as he wanted her to break down and let him have her again, he felt strangely blessed to be able to just lie in bed with her on a Friday night. When he started the year with an attention whore for a girlfriend and a raw heart because the woman he loved wouldn’t talk to him, he never would have believed he’d be where he’d found himself.

“Hey, Livvy,” he said softly, needing to tell her what he was thinking.

“Hey, Adam.” She looked away from the television to catch his gaze.

“I’m glad you let me stay. I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

“Can I ask you a question?” she said, her upper teeth pressing into her lower lip. She was thinking hard, maybe even a little nervous.

“You can ask me anything.”

Liv cleared her throat and shifted up onto her side, pulling the pillow closer. “I heard you gave up hard liquor a couple months ago. Is that true?”

Where did she hear that? The only person he’d said anything to was Sharpie. Abby, he thought. Of course. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t need it. Because I’m trying to be better for you,” he replied. Her eyes were wide as she stared back at him. When she didn’t speak up, he continued with, “It’s no big deal, Livvy.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Adam shifted and settled into the mattress so he could turn onto his side and face her, their bodies less than a foot apart. “Because that would have just been words. My mom told me I should go with actions. Hell, you even told me I don’t know when to shut up. So, I’m trying to learn. Actions, not promises.”

“Adam,” she whispered. “I... I don’t know what to say.”

“In a good way or a bad way?”

“In a good way. You talked to your mom about me?” She seemed surprised. Adam wasn’t sure why.

“Of course. I told her you were the one, and I messed it all up. She told me to show you that I deserve you.”

“Adam,” she said, her voice breaking on his name.

Slowly, he brought a hand up to cup her cheek. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“Nothing. Stop being perfect.”

He smiled softly at her. “We both know I’m not perfect, Livvy love. I’m just hoping you can give me a second chance. Because you can bet I’m not going to fuck it up again.”

“I believe you, Adam. I really, really do. It’s just not like flipping a switch. When I think about us... together... sometimes I can still see you and... her, a stranger. It’s a mood killer.”

It was probably one of the worst things he could hear at that moment because there was nothing he could do about it. No amount of vows and promises and actions showing his dedication to her would help her forget that sort of thing. It was like the elephant in the room that neither one of them wanted to acknowledge.

“We’ll take everything at your pace. I’ll do anything you want me to, sweetheart.”

Liv moved closer and snaked her arm across his bare stomach beneath the sheets. He felt goosebumps pop up at her light touch. To make her more comfortable, Adam extended his arm and let her settle her head into the crook of his shoulder.

“I missed this so much,” she whispered into this chest.

Adam bent his extended arm and let this fingertips run through her hair. “Me too, Livvy love.”

She fell asleep first, not even thirty minutes into the movie. If he held his breath, he could feel the rise and fall of hers against his body, rhythmic and intoxicating. Not more than fifteen minutes later and he faded out. The last thing he remembered thinking was that the shape of her body felt so good pressed up against him.

* * *

Adam woke up on his stomach with his arm thrown over a woman's midsection. He knew it was Liv before he even opened his eyes. Instinct told him to push himself up to work his knee between her legs and kiss her neck until she roused. And then he could do what he really wanted to do. But they weren't there. Yet. Old habits were hard to break. He usually didn't stick around when he went home with a woman. The walk of shame was an old, familiar friend since he often snuck out after the girl of the moment fell asleep or left early in the morning before she woke. When he'd been with Liv, he'd woken her up in the most pleasant way possible--morning sex. And he did it almost every single morning she was in his bed and he hadn't overslept. In the three years since then, he'd missed that ritual. Kristen had lasted for a little over two months, but she was never receptive. And, truth be told, he never pushed that much because it reminded him too much of Liv.

Instead of spreading her legs and pushing her shirt up, he slid across the bed and made a stop in her bathroom before going into the kitchen to start breakfast. He remembered when she would wake him up with the smell of breakfast--whole grains and proteins and all the things the dietitians of the team recommended. She'd easily adapted to the restrictions on what he should and shouldn’t eat and had done so with a smile. Remembering just made him feel like shit for what he'd done to her. He was working on making amends, paying her back for everything and more.

While the coffee was brewing, he pulled her jersey--the one with his signature and number on the back--out of the second plastic bag and hung it on the back of a stool scooted up against the island.

She came padding into the kitchen a couple minutes later when she smelled the pot of coffee. "Hey," she said, giving him a little smile and scooting up on the stool to watch him. He watched her out of the corner of his eye while she touched the jersey tenderly and then easily slipped it on over her pajamas. His chest felt strange as he looked at her, his number splashed across her arms.

"Livvy, your hair is so fancy this morning," he told her while he poured her a cup of coffee and put sugar in it. Only sugar and only half a spoonful. He remembered. That had to count for something after all these years apart.

"Shut your mouth, you clown," she said, imitating him. "I didn't know you cooked breakfast in your underwear."

"Only for you, sweetheart."

"You're really distracting. I can almost see through those boxers."

"I'll take mine off if you take yours off," he said, looking over his shoulder and giving her a devilish grin.

She laughed at him and leaned forward on the island to watch him finish breakfast. The English muffins were already toasted and the sauce was ready. Once the ham finished, he'd be able to assemble everything with the poached eggs.

"I'm glad you're back in my life, Adam." Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

The sentence shot right through his heart, overwhelming him. Being with her was just a series of highs and lows, moments of feeling like he was invincible and moments of despair that he'd never get what he wanted. "I'm glad I am too, Livvy love."

He pulled in a deep breath after he'd plated their breakfast and carried it over to sit beside her. There probably wasn't a better time than now to ask. "I have a question."

"What's that?" Liv asked, cutting into her eggs benedict.

"There's a concert in Chicago next weekend. On Saturday. I wanted to know if you'd go with me. Sharpie's going. I'm sure Abby will come if you're coming. We could invite Andrea and her fiance if you want. I can get backstage passes and stuff. We don't have to go as a couple. It could just be, like, as friends. Plus, you like everyone who will be playing. Jason Aldean, Kelly Clarkson, Jake Owen..." He was rambling and he knew it. He'd just been so nervous to ask her, afraid she'd give him that look that said he was taking this friends thing a little too far, even if he'd slept in her bed last night. Even if he was sitting in her kitchen in his underwear and eating breakfast with her.

"Adam, stop," she said with a little chuckle. "I'd love to go with you."

He felt like throwing his arms up in victory. "Do you think you can get Friday off work? I'd like to fly up then. Maybe we could visit our place in Starved Rock?"

"Yeah, I'll try." She leaned in and laid her head on his shoulder. "It'd be like coming full circle. "

* * *

Tuesdays were when he started craving her. Sundays were spent making up for the missed Saturday workout. Mondays were spent remembering Saturdays. And Tuesdays were too far away from Saturdays to satisfy him. He sent her flowers--a huge bouquet of tulips and another CD with a song on it. She chirped him for the songs, but he knew she really loved it. It was obvious in her voice and her eyes.

On his way to the gym, he called Sharpie.

“Put your dancing shoes on and get a babysitter, Sharpie. Looks like you’ve got to talk Abby into going to the show.”

Sharpie was quiet for a moment, and then replied. “You got your girl back, Burr?”

What was the answer to that? Yes? No? Maybe? Almost? “To be determined,” he finally said. “I’m out of the doghouse at least.”

This time Sharpie laughed. “I never thought I’d see the day. She was pretty intent on hating you for the rest of her life.”

“I know; you’re impressed. You want some advice on women, you just let me know,” Adam replied.

“Thanks, but I try not to go three years with my woman giving me the cold shoulder.”

If it had been anyone but Sharpie, Adam would have considered it a low blow. But the two of them had grown close over their time together with the Blackhawks. Sharpie was like a brother; and brothers were allowed to get away with much more than a buddy would.

“She let me sleep in her bed on Friday night,” he couldn’t help but brag. Just saying it made him feel giddy, like a boy who had the girl of his dreams accept his invitation to the prom.

“On top of the covers?” Sharpie asked, laughing the entire time.

“Right underneath with her.”

“Kissing and telling now?”

Adam grinned as he pulled into his parking spot. “You know she didn’t let me get anywhere with her, but it was still nice. Didn’t think I’d ever get back to this point.”

“I’m so glad you did,” Sharpie said. “Because that last girl? Kristen? Yikes.”

“Yeah, mistake,” Adam agreed, cringing at the memory of how messed up he’d been over Liv and how he’d grabbed onto the trashiest attention whore who’d stood up and begged for his time.

“Hold on, Abby wants to talk to you.”

“Me? Why does she want to...”

“Hey, Adam,” she said in a sweet voice. Adam knew better. Abby was a force to be reckoned with despite the sugary voice and the smile. He’d gotten a taste of that when he’d fucked up with Liv. Abby had torn him apart like he hadn’t already torn himself apart.

“Hey, Abby. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Oh, you know, just checking up on my favorite Shark. How’s things been?”

Adam felt his lips turn up into a smile. “Real good. But I hear you’ve been spilling my business all over the place.”

His accusation threw her off. “What? What business?”

“Heard you told a mutual friend that I’d given up liquor.”

Abby was silent for a few seconds before she said, “Yeah, well, I helped your ass out. It was a big pro in the Adam Burish pros and cons list.”

“How many cons are there?” He was half playing around and half serious. He really did want to know.

“Two. Cheating and really bad taste in music,” she said in a deadpan voice.

A bark of laughter escaped his mouth. “First one is no longer a problem. And second one never was a problem. So go ahead and read off all those pros for me. Great hair, successful, nice ass, knows how to drive a stick shift...”

“Oh, Jesus...” Abby muttered. “I see you’re still full of yourself. I don’t know how Pat stands you. Oh wait, you two are perfect for each other.”

“Patty takes good care of me. Always brings me cold beers when we’re hanging out.”

“Pat, take your boyfriend back. He’s ridiculous,” Abby said, her voice distant like the microphone of Sharpie’s phone wasn’t near her mouth. A moment later she came back and whispered, “You hurt her and I’ll pull some strings with the other wives and we’ll have all those guys beat your ass.”

It wasn’t really a joke, and he knew it. “I won’t hurt her. I’ll never hurt her again.”

“Good, here’s your boyfriend.” And then Sharpie was back on the line, grousing at his wife for saying he was Adam’s boyfriend.

* * *

{Present Day, mid-July 2013}

When she got back to the office after a morning of making the rounds to a couple family practice clinics north of the city, she found a vase filled with tulips on her desk. Pale pink ones that were almost white, bright and vibrant pink ones, purple-pink ones, and deep pink ones that bordered on a dusty rose color. The arrangement was huge with what must have been at least thirty or thirty-five flowers.

An envelope was leaned up against the vase, but there was no note. Like last time, there was only a blank CD. She shut her office door before she dropped the CD into the tray of her computer. The media player automatically started and the opening chords for Blake Shelton’s Honey Bee started playing. She couldn’t stop the smile from growing on her face. She loved the song, and he probably knew it, even though she’d never told him. It had been released during the time that they weren’t speaking.

She stared at the flowers, the different shades blending together, and let herself smile and think about all the good things she associated with Adam. There were so many. It was hard not to fall for his charms, and maybe she was being silly for fighting it so much. He was trying to change. Maybe she just needed to let him take things to the next level. She’d never get over her mental block on the physical aspect until she let him do more than hug her.

Liv picked up her phone right as the song was winding down and dialed him. He was probably just now getting out of the gym.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said when he answered the phone.

She ran her fingertips over a couple of the tulips, feeling the silky petals. “I got your flowers. Figured you were looking for a phone call.”

“I was. Did Blake Shelton make you smile?”

Liv grinned again. She couldn’t stop doing that nowadays. “Yes. He did.”

“What are you doing tonight?”

“Are you trying to get an invitation to come over to my place?”

“Or you can come check out mine. We can order in and I’ll pick up all my dirty laundry,” he said.

“Shoot,” Liv said, “you’d pick up your laundry for me? I can’t pass that up. Text me your address.”

“Yes ma’am. See you after work?”

“Six o’clock,” she agreed.

* * *

He lived right in the middle of the city on an upper floor of a high-rise residential building. When she knocked, she didn’t even have to wait five seconds before he pulled the door open with a smile. “Hey, you found it,” he said, motioning for her to come inside.

It was the consummate bachelor pad from the floor to the ceiling. A huge sectional couch dominated the living area with a square coffee table settled right in front of it. The table was scattered with papers, a couple empty water bottles, and a wireless XBox controller. The flat screen television on the wall was huge and looked brand new. There were windows along the wall that looked out over smaller buildings and the beginnings of a golf course in the distance. A signed Toby Keith guitar was hanging on the wall beside a couple pictures of his parents and sister.

“You need to hire a decorator, stat,” she said, turning to look at him.

He popped his eyes up to look at her face. He’d been checking her out while her back was turned because he looked guilty as hell. She was still in her work clothes--a cream skirt suit was black piping around the edges. The pencil skirt stopped just above her knees and had a slit up the back. Her black heels went right along with the black shell she was wearing underneath the jacket.

“I was hoping you’d consider working your magic again. I need a woman’s touch, and you’re the only one I want.”

He was watching her with those expectant eyes, looking for a sign that she wanted him like he wanted her. It was almost too much to weather. Liv felt like jumping on him and kissing him and begging him to just take her to bed so they could be done with all this awkward pain, but she knew that sex wouldn’t heal everything. Some wounds needed more than that.

“Let me see the bedroom before I agree to be your decorator,” she said, unbuttoning the suit jacket and slipping it off. He was right there behind her to catch it and carefully hang it on one of the pub chairs around the small dining table off the kitchen.

She walked further into his place and found the spare room which only had a few boxes scattered across the floor.

“Why don’t you unpack and stay awhile?” she asked him.

“I’m not happy here. This place is temporary until I buy or rent a house. I’m kind of done with all these apartments and condos. They don’t feel like home.”

“Wow, Adam. You sound like a real adult,” she teased as she walked into his bedroom. The floor was spotless, not a piece of dirty clothing to be found. His bed was made, which was a minor miracle in and of itself, and the shades were open to let in the light of a pleasant summer evening on the west coast.

He was standing behind her. “I’ve been thinking about the future a lot lately. Where I want to be, what I want to do, who I want to be in my life.”

Liv opened the closet door right as he made a noise of protest. There was a pile of dirty clothes that looked like they’d just been kicked in there at the last minute. She smiled and then started giggling, holding her stomach and bending over at the waist. Some things just never changed. Sometimes that was a good thing.

“I had half an hour to clean up before you got here,” he explained. “I panicked.”

“This is oddly comforting, Adam. Like old times. Dirty clothes everywhere.” She straightened herself up and leveled her gaze on him. “I missed you like crazy. Even when I was hurt and mad, I missed you.”

“Not as much as I missed you, sweetheart. Trust me on that one.”

“But don’t get it twisted, Mr. Hockey Star. As much as I missed you, I’m not about to be a pushover. You try anything again, and there won’t be a third chance.”

His eyes were unwavering when he looked directly at her and said, “You are the only woman I want in my life. I won’t need a third chance because the second one is more than I deserve.”

Liv reached out and put a hand on his bicep. He radiated warmth, and his arm was rock solid. “So, what’s for dinner?”

“Whatever your heart desires.”

She bit her tongue because all she really wanted was him and for them to be okay. “Anything we get delivered will wreck your meal plan.”

“I have veggies and brown rice. I could make us stir fry.” He looked so sweet, standing there, hoping he could please her. His hair was tucked behind his ears, but curling out as it tried to break free. He was in a crisp white T-shirt and a pair of black cargo shorts. His hands were in the pockets of the shorts and his shoulder bunched up into his ears.

Liv stepped into him and slid her arms around his waist until her hands met behind his back. He seemed surprised at the physical contact, his muscles tightening up. “How about I make stir fry? You’ve been cooking for me too much lately.”

“I’m trying to make up for all those Saturdays I won’t be able to be there when the season starts,” he whispered, looking down at her, hands still in his pockets.

“You don’t have to make up for that, Adam. I know what I’d be signing up for with you. I know hockey is important.”

“For the first time in my life I can honestly say that I’ve found something more important.”

Liv’s breath caught. It was a bold statement on his part. He’d worked almost his entire life to get where he was so he could play at this elite level. Saying that she was more important than that was shocking. “There’s room in your life for both,” she replied, running a hand up his back until she could feel the point of his shoulder blade through the thin material of the shirt.

“Liv,” his whispered, pulling one of his hands out of his pocket and placing it gently on her cheek. “You don’t even know how much I love you.”

His eyes were filled with the truth of it. She felt like she was being crushed by the weight of their feelings for each other, but it was a sweet sensation of embracing and giving in to what they’d both wanted for so long. “We’ve got to at least hang some curtains and get a cabinet to hide all those XBox wires underneath your television. Maybe find a couple pieces of artwork that you like for the walls so they don’t feel so bare.”

He smiled softly at her. “Or maybe you should go look at houses with me.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she said, “Moving a little fast, aren’t you. I thought we were doing easy does it?”

“You don’t have to move in right now, but I want it to be a place you love so you’ll be tempted to later.”

Liv shook her head, and she smiled at him. “Sneaky,” she said.

“Using every tool in my kit to try to get you to take me back, sweetheart. I’m not above begging and buying your dream house.”

She dropped her forehead on his chest and laughed at his comment even when she felt like swooning in his arms and letting him catch her. And he would catch her; she had no doubt about that. It was such a little thing, but it spoke volumes about her trust in him. "Come on," she said, pulling away and walking toward the bedroom door. "Let's go see if you really do have these veggies in your fridge. I'm skeptical."

As it turned out, he did have them--celery, carrots, cabbage, and zucchini. Liv made him sit on the counter and watch instead of helping her out. He hadn't let her help with breakfast the past three Saturdays. When they'd been together, she'd made him a healthy version of stir fry with only a bit of olive oil and a few herbs. If he had it with brown rice, it wasn't too far off the strict diet many of the players abided by most days.

It was easy to fall back into the rhythm and whip up the familiar dish. "Why has it taken you so long to look for a new place?" she asked him while she waited for the rice to finish up.

"Busy with the season, I guess. And then busy thinking about you. We live kinda far apart. I wouldn't mind a place closer to you now that you're talking to me again."

"Further drive to the arena," she said, leaning back against the counter and looking across the three feet that separated her from the counter he was sitting on opposite her.

Adam shrugged. "Priorities, Livvy love. You're at the top of the list. Always should have been."

"Turning on the charm?" she asked with a grin on her face.

"Being honest. What do you say? Want to go look at houses with me before the season starts?"

Liv laughed. "Adam, you can't buy a house just because I like it."

"I can if I want to. And I want to. What do we need? Three bedrooms at least, right? A pool. Dual sinks in the bathroom because I can't fit my toothbrush next to the sink when you've got the place piled up with your makeup and hair stuff. Two or three car garage? Do you want to move closer to the city or further out? Maybe out toward the coast so we don't have so far to drive to the ocean?"

Liv opened her mouth to respond, but she didn't know what to say. He was talking like they were together and were going to stay together for the rest of their lives. What was all this we stuff? It was romantic to listen to him talk about his future like it was a given that she'd be there and he wanted to take her needs into consideration. "I want room for a koi pond in the backyard,” she finally said.

"Done. I'll talk to a real estate agent tomorrow."

She laughed again and shook her head at him. "You're absolutely crazy."

Adam hopped down from the counter and walked up to stand directly in front of her, only a few inches away. His body was intimidating--tall with broad shoulders and muscular arms. "I have never felt more sane in my life," he told her in a soft voice.

Liv looked up at his face and all she could see were his gorgeous blue eyes watching her. He wanted to kiss her; she could feel the desire vibrating off him, but he wouldn't do it without her permission.

"Aren't you going to kiss me?" she asked.

"Am I allowed?" he whispered, tilting his head to the side and dipping down until a lift of her chin would make her lips connect with his.

"Yes," Liv said softly.

He pressed his lips against her before she even finished the word. Liv opened her mouth and deepened the kiss, falling into it like she was coming home after years of being away. The soft touch of Adam's fingers running through her hair so he could guide her into a second kiss was deliciously familiar, but still sent electric through her body.

Liv placed her hands on his chest, feeling the curve of his pecs as he leaned in closer and put his other hand on her hip. His tongue stoked the heat in her abdomen, causing a dull throbbing desire between her legs. Three years had only intensified their chemistry.

"I feel like I should thank you for that," he said.

Liv laughed and ran her hands up to grip his shoulders. "Or I should thank you. I missed your kisses."

"Not as much as I missed yours." Adam leaned in and kissed her again. Her hands wandered to the back of his head to play with his hair as he slipped his tongue between her lips and coaxed her to return the favor. Liv had forgotten how good and how easy this was with him. Effortless. Meant to be.

Except she could smell something burning. It was faint, but still strong enough for her to pick it up. Adam must have smelled it as well because he pulled back. “What’s that...” he started to say.

Liv let go of him and glanced over at the stovetop. “The rice,” she said. She’d completely forgotten about the rice when he started telling her how he wanted to buy her dream house and have her move in and play at being a couple again. Were they a couple now? Where would that line be crossed? Had they already crossed it?

Adam laughed as she flipped the burner off and removed the pot from the heat. Most of the rice was just fine, but the bottom layer was likely burned onto the pot which might need to be replaced now. “Oops,” she said, giggling along with him. “You’re a bad influence. I had this dinner under control until you started getting frisky.”

“Don’t blame me. You’re the one who started it. I can’t resist you when you’re in these hot little skirt suits you wear to work, asking me to kiss you.”

Liv took a wooden spoon and dished out some rice on the two plates Adam had sat out for her when she started cooking. The bottom half inch of rice was brown and gummy, stuck to the bottom of the pan. She showed it to Adam. “You shouldn’t kiss so well or this wouldn’t happen.”

He took the pan out of her hands and tossed it in the sink with a loud clatter. “I’ll throw it away and get a new one. Come here and let me kiss you again, Livvy.”

“Woah, boy,” she said, evading his arms and grabbing the skillet with the veggies in it. “Dinner is served. Better eat before it gets cold.” She carefully dished out equal amounts of vegetables on the plates of rice.

“You know I’d rather starve and make out with you.”

“Why don’t you eat and then make out with me?”

Adam winked and took a plate from her. “Deal, sweetheart. You and me, my sexy couch, maybe some classy music. I’ll let you touch my ass; I know you’ve been dying to.”

“You’re ridiculous,” she said, trying to hide the smile on her face. As he passed by with both plates in his hands, she smacked his ass.

“Woah, woah, woah. You’re jumping the gun. That was scheduled for ten-thirty tonight.”

“Get out of here,” Liv said through the chuckles bubbling up and out of her mouth.

They sat down at the tall pub table set just off the kitchen and ate. Adam actually ate one-handed because he kept the other lightly on her knee. She didn’t shake him off because the weight of his hand on her felt good and right and comforting. They’d come a long way if she could kiss him and let him touch her like this without bringing up bad memories of the past.

* * *

{Present Day, Mid-July 2013}

While he cleaned up after dinner, she’d disappeared into his bedroom. When she came out, she was in one of his linen dress shirts. She’d taken the clips out of her hair and brushed it out. Her legs were bare and so were her feet. He felt his mouth go dry and his dick stir when she sat down on the couch and let the hem of the shirt ride up her thighs. Was she going to stay the night? Was he going to get lucky?

He put on George Strait because he’d told her they’d listen to something classy. We Must Be Loving Right was smooth, jazzy, subtly sexy, romantic. Everything he wanted it to be so he could sit beside her on the couch and make out like two teenagers who finally got some time alone in his parents’ house. Instead of it being awkward at first, it was easy as hell to settle down next to her and reach over to pull her in for a long, deep kiss. 

Liv’s little hands were laid flat on his chest as he turned into her and pressed her back into the couch cushions. He took her mouth, plundered it with his tongue. He knew she loved it because she was making those soft moaning noises she tended to when she wanted more. Really, he just wanted to rip both their clothes off so he could make love to her on the couch and the floor and the coffee table. The coffee table was big enough and probably sturdy enough to handle it.

Adam ran his mouth up her jawbone and then back down the delicate column of her neck. He could practically taste her as he thought about spreading her legs and lapping at her pussy until she said his name like she used to when she was close to the edge of an intense orgasm. She had this way of saying it all breathy with a heated intensity that sent a shot of electricity right down his spine and then out his dick. She made him feel like he was the only man in the world who could make her feel that good. No other woman had never come close to the way she turned him on with just a look or a whispered word.

He felt her bury one of her hands in his hair, her nails dragging lightly across his scalp. It made him shiver in pleasure as he trailed his mouth back up her chin to kiss her lips again. Liv’s tongue came out and traced his lower lip seductively. The little gesture made him lose his mind. He needed her right now. The music was still playing in the background, but he was headed for his bedroom. In one smooth movement, he stood and hauled her over his shoulder.

Liv squealed and kicked her legs in the air as he carried her into the bedroom and dropped her right in the middle of his bed, right on top of the duvet so he could see the way the thin, linen shirt flipped up to show her white panties with lace cutting across her hips. Her eyes were dilated and filled with heat as he climbed onto the bed with her. She remembered as well as he did how good it was between them. How they’d spent hours and hours practicing how to please each other. 

“Livvy love,” he whispered in her ear once he was on top of her, his hips cradled between her spread legs. He felt like the heat from her sex was so intense he could feel it through her panties and his clothes. He couldn’t wait to rip everything off and finally touch her naked body and all that smooth, flawless skin he knew was underneath the shirt she’d borrowed.

Adam ran a hand up under the shirt, over her stomach and between her breasts. If he needed confirmation that she’d taken her bra off, now he had it. Smoothly, he glided his hand to the right and cupped one of her tits in his hand, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

“Adam,” she gasped, grabbing onto his shoulders as she lifted her hips up. She was eager, and he was loving every second. He’d get the house and she’d end up staying over so he could make love to her every night. Eventually she’d just move in, which was the end game. Or maybe the end game was putting a ring on her finger. He’d been thinking about that a lot lately. A house, a wife. A real, solid life with the woman he’d been in love with for years. He couldn’t take a second chance for granted.

He ripped open the shirt she’d put on and listened to the buttons go flying across the hardwood floor of his bedroom. One of them even pinged off the windowpane and bounced back into the bed. Her nearly naked body was underneath him now. He could see the delicate pink of her hardened nipples and the heft of her delicious tits as they sat there on her chest and waited for him to kiss them, lick them.

Her body was tense when he bent his head down to take her right nipple in his mouth, but he assumed it was just excitement and lust.

“Adam,” she whispered, squeezing his shoulders.

He moaned as he flicked his tongue out across the hardened nipple.

“Adam,” Liv said again. This time her hands slid down to his chest and pushed him back.

He was drunk on lust and didn’t quite understand what she was trying to do. “What, sweetheart?”

“I... I can’t. Please.” Her voice was so tiny, so weak. It felt like a slap in the face.

She couldn’t what? He moved off her and watched her pull the shirt tight around her body. Liv rolled onto her side and then sat up, letting her legs dangle off the edge of the bed with her back to him.

“What’s wrong, Liv?” he asked.

She shook her head before hunching over on herself and covering her face with her hands.

“Liv,” he whispered, moving over to sit beside her. “Talk to me.” His heart was galloping in his chest. He needed this to work. He needed her to take him back completely. Friends was not enough.

“I’m sorry, Adam. I just...” Her voice was raw and teary. “I couldn’t get past thinking of you with... other women.”

His heart dropped. The one thing he couldn’t do anything about. His past. What he’d done. How he’d lived. He wished he could take it all back and wash it clean just for her. Not just the slut from the night of the Cup celebration, but all the one-night stands. All but her.

“I love you. I’ve only ever loved you. I only want you. I’ve only ever made love to you. Only you. No one else. I swear on my life if you give me a chance, you’re the last.” He sounded like a pathetic man begging for his life. And it was probably because that’s what he felt like he was doing. Without her it was just the constant grind that wore him down, made him look for cheap escapes like easy women. And who would give her the koi pond in the backyard if he didn’t? Some slick doctor who wouldn’t treat her the way she should be treated, probably. Or her. She could give it to herself because she didn’t need his sorry ass.

Liv stood up and moved away from the bed. “It’s the same bed,” she said. Her hands were clutching the shirt against her chest.

She was right; it was the same bed. He’d had it shipped with him from Chicago to Dallas and then to San Jose. It was comfortable and had mostly good memories associated with it. “It is,” he told her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

“Maybe we should just slow down. Can we sleep on the couch tonight?”

Relief, even if it was just temporary, washed over him. She wasn’t leaving. She wasn’t telling him never. The bed would be gone tomorrow. He’d buy a new one.

“Of course,” Adam said, standing up and putting a hand on the small of her back as he guided her out of the bedroom and into the living room. It was still early, but the George Strait album had finished.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered when she sat down on the end of the couch. Her gaze was firmly fixed on the floor, and her hair fell so he couldn’t see her expression.

Adam knelt down in front of her and forced her to look up at him with a hand on her chin. “It’s not your fault, sweetheart. It’s mine. I shouldn’t have done that.” He felt like such an asshole--trying to have makeup sex with your girlfriend in the same bed you cheated on her in. Stupid.

“I wish I could get over this mental block.”

“Take your time. I’ll wait.” Adam stood up. “What do you want to listen to? Something good that will make you feel better.”

Liv sniffed. “Kip Moore always makes me feel better.”

Of course, he thought with a smile. “Done, Livvy. Let me switch it over. Don’t get all sad on me. We’re going to be okay.”

“Okay,” she said, sounding like a little girl who had just been told he’d help her find her way home. The depth of her trust in him made his heart ache. He couldn’t hurt her even if he tried.

The first song on her album started as he made his way over to the couch. “Will you let me hold you?” he asked.

Liv stood up and let him lie down on his side, pressing himself deep into the cushions. She settled in front of him, scooting back until she was molded against him from shoulders to heels.

Adam used his free hand to untangle her long hair and lay it out on his arm and the throw pillow under their heads. “I love you. Just remember that,” he whispered in her ear, his voice raw.

She reached back and grabbed his arm, pulling it around her waist and pushing back into his body again. “I love you back, Adam. Always have.”

* * *

Since they went to sleep early, they both woke up before six. He came to first and just stayed where he was even though the arm she’d laid her head on was asleep. Her shoulder rose and fell with each breath she pulled in--slow, hypnotic breaths that prevented him from looking away. The living room was still dim with that pale early morning light coming in through the windows.

Maybe it would take time, but he’d get her back. And then he’d never fuck up again. He might leave dirty laundry all over the bedroom floor or burn the pancakes in the morning, but that was it--no more women, no more stupid drunken nights out.

Liv shifted against him, and he tried to pull his hips back so she wouldn’t feel his morning wood that was pressing into her skimpy little panties. She helped him out by turning around to face him. Her lids were halfway open, but she looked gorgeous, even with the smudged makeup around her eyes.

Without a word, she snaked her arms around him and laid her ear on his chest, right above his heart. Adam lifted his hand up and held the back of her head gently against him. His fingertips and lower arm started tingle as the blood flowed back into it. "Good morning," he whispered down at her.

Liv's expression was a mystery because he could only see the top of her head, but her words were reassuring. "Thank you for not making me feel like a bitch for stopping us last night."

"None of that was your fault, Liv. I didn't think. I'll fix it."

"You already have. I forgave you for it back when we were meeting in Pomponio Beach."

"I'm getting rid of the bed. Do you want to pick out my new one?"

She looked up at him. "That's a ridiculous reason for getting rid of a perfectly good bed."

Sensation was coming back to his hand. He pushed her hair back from her face and said, "It's a great reason for getting rid of the bed. What kind do you want? Another four poster? How about a canopy so you can pretend you're a princess?" He tried to sound serious, but the humor leaked into the question anyway.

Liv’s laughter was just a couple undignified snorts. "Can we get one with the padded bench for the footboard? I've always wanted one of those."

"Of course." He dipped his head down and kissed her upturned face--first on her forehead, then on her nose, and finally on her mouth. It was a chaste kiss at first--closed lips and gentle pressure--and then it morphed into a slow, leisurely dance of tongues. He reasoned that morning breath canceled itself out if both people had it.

"What time is it?" she whispered against his lips when they each stopped to take a breath.

Adam looked up at the clock on the DVD player under the television. "Five fifty-eight."

"I need to go home and get a shower before work."

He knew it was coming, but he wished she didn't have to. He'd prefer calling off with his trainer and spending the day helping her get over her issues in a brand new bed. With a padded bench for a footboard. He didn't even know what that was, but he'd find it if that's what she wanted. "I'll drive you home."

"I'll need my car and you probably have a date with your trainer. I'll be okay."

"Are you okay for Friday? I'll pick you up around noon so we can make our flight?"

"I thought I was getting my own ticket," she said.

"Hey, I asked you. I'm paying."

Liv slipped off the couch. She was still in his linen shirt with the missing buttons. He could see a strip of her skin between her breasts that went all the way down the front of her, showing off the white lace panties she'd worn. She probably didn't even know she was tempting him. She disappeared into the bedroom and came back out a few minutes later in her clothes from yesterday.

"I'll be ready at noon on Friday. See you then," Liv said softly before leaning down and kissing him. It took every ounce of willpower he had to stop himself from grabbing her and pulling her down on top of him. It was a close thing, but he managed to restrain himself. Friday at noon. He could make it. Maybe.


	6. Chapter 6

"Why are you afraid of flying, Liv? You fly for work."

"Like two or three times a year. Not like you do. We're going to be in a box in the sky."

Adam looked over at her with a smile on his face. "It's more like a tube."

"You are not helping me here," she replied.

He held up their hands, fingers intertwined before dropping them back down to her lap. "Doing what I can, sweetheart. I don't think you want me to fly this thing." They were sitting in the first class cabin of a plane as it taxied down the runway. She'd never liked flying, but she usually sucked it up and did it. Maybe it was because she had Adam there with her, and there were so many other emotions running through her, but she felt especially nervous. She wondered where she was spending the next two nights. His hotel room? A separate one? Andy's couch? She hadn't asked him. 

Like always, the flight went smoothly, and Adam carried her bag to the rental he'd arranged. It was a truck, which wasn’t really a surprise. Adam as a truck kind of guy--something rugged that could haul a trailer through a field of mud or look at home in the valet lot of a hot spot restaurant.

It felt strange being back in your hometown a year away. Andrea had already sent her a text that they were on for dinner and drinks after she and Adam got settled into the hotel. She wondered if Adam would be okay with going. She felt silly wondering, though. The man had happily done everything for her without a complaint. Of course he’d go to dinner with her and her best friend.

Liv’s eyes widened when he pulled up in front of the Waldorf Astoria. It’s classy facade and brick circular drive were overwhelming. She’d been inside once for a conference, but never actually stayed at the hotel. The rooms were too expensive for her budget. “Adam, you did not book a room here. This isn’t your style.”

“I thought you might like it, but I want to ask you a question before we go inside.”

He stopped the truck and put it in park right in front of the valet. The boy stood patiently outside, waiting. “What?” Liv asked, looking over at the way he’d turned his body in the bench seat so he was fully facing her.

“You have to be honest and tell me if you want your own room. Because if you leave it up to me, you’ll be sleeping in mine. Up to you.”

“We can share.” She was damn sure of that. She didn’t want to sleep in a room down the hall from him. This trip was about them as much as it was about the concert, maybe even more.

Adam smiled at her and pushed open his door. The valet took his keys while a bellhop lifted their two bags and lead them inside. Liv felt Adam’s arm go around her waist as they entered the posh hotel. She leaned into him, liking the feel of his strong body beside her. Why didn’t she take him back afterward? Maybe she should have. Maybe it would have saved them both a lot of grief. Or maybe she was doing the wrong thing right now. Maybe something that felt this good and made her this happy was bound to be bad news.

He checked into the room and took their bags from the bellhop. “I’ll take care of it,” he told the kid, who looked like he was trying to figure out why Adam looked familiar.

“He was on the verge of recognizing you,” she said when they were alone in the elevator.

“I don’t want to keep us secret this time around, Liv,” he replied. “I thought I was protecting you last time--keeping the media off your back--but I don’t want to sneak around with you anymore. I want you to come to games and be my girlfriend.”

The elevator doors opened with a muted ding. “Are we dating again?” she asked.

“Sorry, am I jumping the gun?” he replied, following her out into the hallway.

“Just a little bit.”

“We’ll be whatever you want to be, then, but I don’t think friends kiss.” He sat the bags down in front of the door to the room and used the keycard to open it, letting Liv enter first. The place was sophisticated--mostly black and white with plush, armless chairs and a low coffee table on a spotless white rug. The room was really a suite with a sitting area that had a plasma television hung on the wall.

Before she could walk any further into the suite, his hands on her waist turned her around. “Adam,” she gasped as he pulled her tight against his body.

“I’m going to tell anyone who asks me that you’re my girlfriend. You can deny it if you want, but I’m not going to stop.”

When she opened her mouth to reply, he kissed her. The bold move took her by surprise and let him glide his tongue over hers as he moaned, the sound rumbling up his throat and right into her mouth. Liv dug her fingertips into his shoulders when she kissed him back. Desire was consuming her body at an alarming rate; she could already feel the dull ache between her legs, begging for what she knew he could give her. Any misgivings about what she was doing faded away when he was touching her.

She pulled back and pressed her palms against his chest. “Andrea and her fiance Tom want to have dinner with us tonight. Is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay.”

* * *

“It’s so weird seeing you two together again. I still want to hate his guts for you.” Andrea was about five inches from the bathroom mirror, reapplying her lipstick.

They had left Andy’s fiance Tom at the table with Adam while they went to the ladies room together. Liv leaned back against the vanity and stared at the empty stalls. “It’s weird, but not weird. He’s been the perfect guy lately.”

“Have you two... you know? With all these sleepovers you’re having...”

Liv laughed softly and shook her head. “No. Almost, but no. I have this mental block. We start getting hot and heavy, and then all I can think about is other women.”

Andy cringed and dropped the tube of lipstick into her purse. “Yuck. But he’s sticking around even though he’s not getting any?”

“Yeah, he’s been amazing. It makes me feel bad we haven’t had sex. I mean, I want to like crazy. Believe that.”

“Fuck that. You shouldn’t feel bad at all. He should have to work harder for it this time around.”

“Since he didn’t have to work at all for it the first time?” Liv asked. When she looked over to meet Andy’s gaze, they both started giggling. “God, can you believe that? I thought I was going to have this hot one-night-stand with him and then look what happened.”

“Life happened, baby,” Andy replied. “I think he’s still crazy in love with you.”

“So, I’m not being stupid for giving him a second chance? Because I don’t think I can stop even if I wanted to.”

Andy stood her head. “I’m sure he’s on his best behavior right now because he wants you back, but I’m impressed. I wouldn’t blame you; and I think you should do what you feel is right.”

“Let’s stop talking about me and start talking about why you and Tom still haven’t set a wedding date.”

“Because I have commitment issues,” Andy replied. “And because weddings are stressful as hell, and I’m secretly afraid the stress will tear us apart.”

Liv rolled her eyes. “You and Tom have been together for four years. A dumb wedding isn’t going to change anything.”

“Exactly. Which is why we don’t have a date.”

“You are horrible,” Liv replied, pushing open the bathroom door. “Let’s go see what those two are doing out there.”

Andy followed her back out into the restaurant. “Tom probably ordered another bottle of wine. He always get Pinot Noir and I can’t stand that shit.”

When they got back to the table, there was another bottle of wine on the table, but it was Pinot Grigio--Andy’s favorite. Liv smiled at her friend and gave her an I-told-you-so look. Andy liked to bitch, but she had an amazing guy in her life.

Adam’s smile was gorgeous and genuine when Liv sat down beside him. His arm came up to rest on the back of her chair so his body was as close as possible without having her on his lap. She had an amazing guy in her life, too. He was doing everything he could to illustrate that fact to her.

After they each had a glass from the bottle of wine Tom had ordered, they said goodnight just outside the door to the restaurant. The humidity of the hot July evening was almost overwhelming, and Liv couldn’t wait to get back into the hotel room. She gave Tom a quick hug, and told him to take care of her girl. When she looked over to find Adam, she saw him leaning into Andy, his head to down next to her ear. Andy nodded and gave him a smile, squeezing the bicep on his left arm.

And then Andy came over and threw her arms around Liv. “It’s so good to see you, Liv. I swear Tom and I are going to ask for a week off and come see you before winter. Maybe we can double date all over San Jose.”

“What did he say to you?” Liv whispered in her friend’s ear.

Andy pulled back, holding Liv’s shoulders with her hands. “He apologized for his prick behavior, promised to never hurt you again, and told me that he’s insanely in love with you.”

“Bullshit.” She said it even though she knew Andy wasn’t lying. It was just hard to comprehend a guy--especially the guy of her dreams--saying those things.

“You better believe it. Maybe a second chance isn’t such a bad idea.”

Liv hugged Andy tightly and gave her a kiss on the cheek before they walked to their respective vehicles on opposite ends of the parking lot.

“I think you’re back on Andy’s good side,” she told Adam when he helped her up into the truck.

“Good,” was all he said when he flashed her a smile and closed the door.

A few minutes later found they back in the cool hotel room, and Liv had slipped into a flowery nightgown that fell to her knees. She felt like a grandma in a moo-moo, but she didn't want to tease him when she didn't feel ready to jump back in bed with him yet. Their last attempt had been seared into her mind as an embarrassing failure. She knew she shouldn't feel guilty about it, but she did. He'd been so amazing lately, and she was just unable to get past that one night. It haunted her.

"You take the bed; I'll sleep on the couch. It looks better than my bed at home," he said, sitting down on the cushions and testing them out by bouncing up and down. Liv felt even more guilty now that he'd picked up on her reluctance.

"You can share the bed with me. I'd like to be next to you, but I don't want..."

"It's okay, Livvy love. You don't have to say it; I understand. I know I'm an awesome pillow."

She grinned at him and playfully punched his chest. As always, it was solid as a rock. "You're a shitty pillow. You work out too much to be soft."

"Mmm, could have fooled me. You always end up lying on top of me." Adam stepped closer to her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Liv relaxed into his body, laying her head on his chest and her palms flat against his stomach. "You're comfy."

"So you are, sweetheart. We can just sleep. I don't mind."

"Okay," she whispered.

That was all it took for him to sweep her up and carry her over to the bed. "You've got this romance novel stuff down to an art," she giggled, burying her face into his shoulder as her arms wrapped around his neck. Adam laid her down and followed her onto the bed where he pulled off his pants and shirt.

Once he was in his underwear, he pulled her closer to him until they were both in the middle of the massive bed. "I'm using every tool in my kit, Livvy. Whatever it takes to get you back. Life is not nearly as good without you."

She let her hands roam across the expanse of his chest, tracing the contours of his well-defined muscles as they tapered down into his stomach and narrow waist. When she hit the elastic band of his boxer briefs, she ran her hands back up his chest and proceeded to touch his arms and shoulders.

"Why do you touch me like that?" he asked in a soft voice.

Liv looked up at his face as he shifted to his side so he could look down at her. "What do you mean?"

"You like to touch me, but it's not really sexual."

"Who says it's not sexual?" she asked with a smile.

He laughed, and his hair fell in his eyes as he dipped his head. "Well, you don't grab for my junk, so it's not like you're trying to get a rise out of me. It's like you just want to touch me; you're not trying to get anything else out of it."

"Well, yeah. Is that weird or something?"

"Most women touch a guy so she can get him to do something."

Liv looked up at him and wondered why he looked so vulnerable and why he thought she should only touch him because she wanted something. "I like touching you. I like the way you feel. Always have. Does it bother you?"

He rolled on top of her, holding his body up so he wouldn't crush her. "No, it doesn't bother me. I love it. I love the way your hands feel on me. It's scary sometimes, though. It's like you can see through me."

"Sorry?"

"Don't apologize. You've taught me so much."

Liv felt her throat closing up and that burning in her sinuses that told her tears were moments away. His face was inches from hers, and a lock of his hair had fallen from behind his ear and dropped over his brow. "Hush," she told him.

"Make me," he replied with that grin on his lips.

She did just that by lifting her head up and pressing her mouth against his. He dropped down into her body and rolled them so she was on top. Liv's legs fell to either side of his waist, and she could feel his erection pressing up into her.

"Ignore it, Liv," he whispered when she pulled her lips off his. "I can't help myself when you touch me. But we don't need to do anything about it."

"I'll get there," she told him. The minute it came out of her mouth, she knew it was true. "I'll get there one day. Soon."

"Don't rush it. We've got time. You've got me for the rest of your life."

She'd opened her mouth to respond before he said the last line, and now she choked on the words. The rest of her life? It was overwhelming. He kissed her again, tender and chaste--just two sets of lips pressed together sweetly. "Bold words there, Burish," she finally said when he looked at her with his gorgeous blue eyes.

"It's all true. Every word of it. I just hope you'll have me."

* * *

He could feel Liv’s eyes on him as the waitress walked by. The girl was probably in her early twenties and had on a short denim skirt with a tight V-neck tee that showed the edges of a hot pink bra. She was also laying it on thick because she knew who he was. Honey this and baby that and of course I'll get you a little extra sauce on that burger. It would have been funny if it weren’t for the fact that his hold on Liv felt tenuous. If she thought he would ever entertain the idea of sleeping with the ridiculous waitress over her, then he was done for.

They had driven out to Starved Rock and spent all morning holding hands on their rock overlooking the waterfall. It was much nicer in the summer when you didn't have to bundle up to avoid frostbite from the chilly wind. It would have been even nicer if he’d been able to take off her clothes in the quiet of the forest and make love to her right there--on the rock or up against a tree, it really didn’t matter. But they weren’t there yet, so holding hands was good enough. Better than being without her, that was for sure.

He had stopped at a restaurant on the way back into town. They had skipped breakfast and making it all the way to dinner with Sharpie and Abby without something to eat just wasn’t going to happen.

"What?" Adam asked, raising his brows at her.

"Enjoying the scenery?" Her voice was clipped and jealousy was in her eyes. If she only knew...

He let his eyes burn a little hotter as he swept them over her, lingering on her breasts. She was in a pink T-shirt and a pair of cut-offs. Three years hadn’t been long enough to forget what she looked like underneath those clothes. "I am," he replied.

Her frown faltered. He’d thrown her off because she’d really been talking about the waitress, not herself. "I was talking about Miss Thing over there who's dreaming of getting you naked."

He looked over his shoulder at the waitress. She was leaning against the counter, waiting for the cook to finish with their food. Women like her seemed to have a sixth sense with men; they could feel eyes on them. She looked up and winked at him. It was a brazen move that completely dismissed Liv who was sitting across from him. He didn’t like the games. Adam turned his head back to Liv. "Not my type," he replied with a shrug.

Liv narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes, she is."

"You're my only type, sweetheart."

"I seem to remember walking into your bedroom three years ago and learning that I’m not.” She didn’t sound pissed or upset; the words were matter-of-fact.

He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “Well, there are two very important things that are going on right now that weren’t going on back then.”

“What would those be?”

“I’ve sworn off hard liquor, and I learned what life is like without you. And Liv? I have no interest in a life without you in it. Miss Thing can flirt all she wants, but that’s not going to change the fact that I’m only going home with you.”

He tried to suppress his grin when he saw her eyes widen and her mouth open. Nothing came out; she looked like a fish out of water.

“Don’t act surprised, sweetheart. I’ve been saying that over and over for the past few months.”

Before Liv could respond, the waitress sauntered over with their plates. Without even looking at Liv, she dropped the grilled cheese in front of her. And then she slowly slid Adam’s burger across the table, leaning toward him as she did it. “Here you go, honey. On the house,” she said.

Adam smiled. “Thanks. That’s nice of you. Liv, isn’t that nice of them?”

Liv stared back at him before flicking her eyes over to the waitress who was still leaning into him, giving him a look down her shirt. “So nice,” she finally replied in a dry voice.

The waitress’ name tag said her name was Yvette. “Yvette, I don’t think I introduced my girlfriend. Her name is Olivia. She’s the woman who is sitting across from me. The one you’ve completely ignored.” The friendliness had faded from his voice.

It took a moment for the words to sink through Yvette’s thick skull enough to make her turn her head to look at Liv. “Oh, uh, hi.”

Liv gave her a tight smile. “Hi. Yes, that’s Adam Burish. No, he’s not going to sleep with you. And, yes, you can get your tits off our table.”

Adam pressed his lips together so he didn’t break out into a grin or start laughing at the fire in Liv’s eyes or the stupid, shocked look on Yvette’s face when she straightened and scurried back to the kitchen.

“Damn, Liv. You don’t have to fight her over me,” he said, finally allowing himself to smile.

“I can’t stand women like that. No respect for another woman. It’s disgusting.”

He took a bite out of his burger, grateful that they’d ordered before Liv snapped at the waitress. Otherwise, they might have been sent food contaminated with spit or worse. “You can stop thinking I’m still on the hunt because I’m not. I already caught you.”

“But are you capable of saying no to these girls that throw themselves at you?” Her eyes were hard and he knew that even if she agreed to take him back again, he’d still have to work hard to regain her trust. But that was okay because he had never shied away from hard work.

“When I have you? Hell yeah, I can say no to these silly girls. I did during those four months we were together, and I was playing for the Blackhawks in Chicago where hockey is huge. Most of the women in San Jose don’t know what the hell a hockey stick looks like.” When Liv opened her mouth to say that he didn’t say no that one important time, he cut her off. “I know what you’re going to say, but that’s not going to happen again. I was half out of my mind on booze, and I didn’t know how shitty my life would be without you in it. But now I know, and I’m not fucking up again. I will never, ever break another promise to you, sweetheart. Never.”

Liv dropped her eyes and pushed the pickle spear around on her plate before daintily picking up the grilled cheese with her index fingers and thumbs to take a bite. She didn’t like to get her hands greasy. She always ate pizza with a fork and burgers with the least amount of fingers possible. The memories made him smile and shake his head.

“I know, Adam. I believe you. I guess it’s just... insecurity after what happened.” Her voice was soft, and she still wasn’t looking at him.

“Hey, I’m not blaming you. That’s my fault. I just want you to know I’m all yours until you don’t want me any more. The tits on the table aren’t appealing.”

He watched her try not to laugh, but she failed miserably, cracked a grin, and then succumbed into a full-fledged laugh as she bent over her food. It was good to know he could still make her laugh. That was important because he needed as much going for him as possible.

* * *

Tom, Andrea’s fiance, took his phone and snapped a picture of Adam and Sharpie posing against the backdrop of the stage and the massive crowd waiting for Jason Aldean to come on the stage. It was a hot night, and the cold beer in his hand felt good. It might have felt better if he could just pour it over his head to relieve some of the humidity. As it was, the only thing keeping the sweat from dripping down his face was the backwards baseball cap on his head.

He’d pulled some strings and got them backstage passes that allowed them to watch the show from the wings instead of crushed in the press of thousands on the field and in the stands. It was a raucous night, and everyone was ready for more music. He didn’t envy security’s job of keeping everyone in line between acts. It was amazing to look out over the sea of bodies as they waited, though.

After he tweeted the picture, he looked over at Liv. She was standing between Abby and Andrea and they were all laughing over something. He wondered what. She looked gorgeous and radiant, despite the oppressive heat and humidity. Her hair was pulled up into a high ponytail, and her makeup was light enough that it wouldn’t melt down her face. She was in a frilly white sundress that showed off her arms and her long legs. The dark brown leather of her cowgirl boots was set off with a design embroidered in pink thread.

As if sensing his eyes on her, Liv looked up and met his gaze. She gave him a big smile before sticking out her tongue. He wanted to go over and pull her away so she would pay attention to just him, but it wouldn’t be fair. She was having a good time with her friends.

“Are you two back together yet?” Sharpie asked.

“Getting there.”

“You’ve been getting there for a month.”

“The second time around is a hell of a lot harder. But we’ll get there. She’s sharing a room with me at least.”

Sharpie clapped him on the shoulder. “I’m happy for you, man.”

“Hypothetically, if I got her to agree to marry me...”

His friend laughed. “You haven’t even got her to agree to date you, man.”

“Technicality. If I did though, would you be my best man? I’d ask Kaner, but you know he’s a clown, and I’d have to chase him out of the broom closet once he got after the bridesmaids.”

Sharpie was giving him a weird look. It made Adam uncomfortable. “Shit, Burr. Yeah, I’d do that for you. You in the market for a ring already?”

“Already? It’s been years.”

“Years that she hasn’t said a word to your ass.”

Adam shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve wanted her for years. I’m locking it down as soon as I can because I’m not going for round three.”

“Never thought I’d see the day...” Sharpie said with a grin before he hit the back of Adam’s cap and flipped it off his head.

Adam caught it before it hit the ground. “Don’t be squealing to Abby about this either. I’ll prank your ass from two thousand miles away. ”

Sharpie knocked Adam’s cap off again. “You’re dying to get over there to your girl,” he added after a moment.

“She’s talking to her friends. I’m giving her some space.”

The lights on the stage lowered and a roar from the crowd sounded. Sharpie pushed him forward. “Go on, they’re about to start again. Tom and I will take care of the girls.”

The band was entering from the other side of the stage. He watched them stream out to their respective spots, hitting their marks like they could do this in their sleep. Adam wished he had the talent to play on a stage like this. He said so to Liv when he circled around and came up behind her. True to his word, Sharpie had taken Abby’s hand and pulled her closer to the railing where they could look down on the crowd. Tom and Andy were making their way over to look down as well.

“You play in front of thousands of people three or four nights a week, Adam. What makes this any different?” She looked over her shoulder at him.

He almost lost his breath at the way she looked at him. Love, respect, admiration. Yeah, he was going to need a best man. “But I don’t get to play guitar and sing songs.”

“I know I’m not as impressive as this crowd, but you can always play guitar and sing songs to me. Girls love that kind of stuff.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back against his body, settling his chin on her shoulder. “I’ll sing you love songs everyday, sweetheart. Just don’t expect me to be the next Luke Bryan.”

“I just want you.” Her voice was a soft rumble against his chest with her this close. And the words were sweeter than he’d expected, but he didn’t have a chance to respond before the music kicked through the speakers, and Jason Aldean started singing his latest single. They had a perfect view of the band from where they were standing even if it was from the back. The music still sounded just as good regardless.

Adam wasn’t about to let go of her, even if it was hotter than hell. Her warm body against him felt just right as one song slid into the next. He felt her reach a hand back to run her fingers through the hair on the nap of his neck when the opening notes of Don’t You Want to Stay started playing. The song was a duet Aldean did with Kelly Clarkson. He hadn’t listened to it much because it had been released a few months after their breakup. The first time he’d heard it, he’d turned it off. It hit a bit too close to home for comfort. Now it didn’t sound so bad with her in his arms and her fingers playing with his hair.

While Jason Aldean took the first verse alone on stage, Liv tilted her head back, pressing the crown of it against his shoulder. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks flushed, and Adam did the only thing he could think to do. He bent his head down and kissed her full on the mouth, tongue slipping between her open lips. They both tasted salty from all the sweat, but he didn’t care, and she didn’t seem to care either because her other arm came up and back to loop around his neck. Adam moved his hands across her stomach and then down to settle on her hips as he deepened the kiss. He wanted to let them roam some more so he could cup her tits in his hands, but they were in public. Maybe later tonight she’d let him.

He tried to pull away, but her little hands brought him back down for another long, leisurely kiss. Kelly Clarkson was singing. Her powerful voice cut through the noise of the crowd as everyone cheered for her. All Adam could think about, though, was that his dick was getting hard at an alarming rate, and he didn’t want to poke Liv in the ass or come in his pants like a teenager. Any question of hiding his erection from her went out the window when he felt her grinding her ass back against his crotch.

Digging his fingers into her hips, he guided her against him one more time before he tried to still her movements. “I fucking love you,” he growled in her ear.

Liv used her hand buried in his hair to pull him down until his face was pressed into her neck. Adam flicked his tongue out to taste the tangy sweat on her skin. “I love you, too,” she told him, her lips brushing against the shell of his ear.

* * *

The concert was amazing, but by the time Jason Aldean came back for a second encore, she was ready to leave. Her dress felt like it was soaked in sweat--hers and Adam’s after he’d had her in a vise grip for the last hour of the show. Not that she’d minded. She was just ready for a shower and air conditioning and a flat surface to rest on because they’d been on the go all day. She was also secretly looking forward to getting Adam alone. His hands had felt good on her hips as he pulled her back into his erection.

“Looking a little hot and heavy over there this evening,” Abby whispered as they all made their way down a set of metal stairs to the maze created by the equipment backstage.

“We were just kissing,” Liv replied with a roll of her eyes.

“Might have been a little more if you two didn’t have an audience.”

“Be quiet,” Liv said, the blush spreading over her cheeks. “I’m allowed to kiss him.”

With that said, she stuck her tongue out at Abby and pushed through to slide around Pat and lace her fingers with Adam’s. He looked down at their intertwined hands and then back up to her face with a smile turning the corners of his mouth up.

“I am so ready to get back to the hotel and get a shower.”

“Me too,” he replied, pulling her toward the parking lot a little faster. They weren’t in a sprint, but she stumbled to catch up.

It took them far too long to say goodnight to everyone and then break through the traffic leaving Wrigley Field. The hotel was just a few miles away, but vehicles were just crawling. Liv pressed her face into the vent of the truck as it blew blessedly cool air all over her.

Adam kept glancing over at her with a smile on his face. He looked happy and unguarded for the first time in a long time. She pulled the front of her dress down and leaned forward to let the cool air blow down inside. “Livvy, you’re going to drive me crazy,” he said, cutting his eyes back to the road. “Or make me wreck this rental.”

She was feeling playful and spontaneous and drunk on happiness and lust and good old-fashioned country love songs. “I’d hate to make you wait for the shower when we get back to the hotel. Maybe you can share with me.”

He didn’t reply for a very long time. When she looked over at his profile, his jaw was clenched and his knuckles were white as they held onto the steering wheel. “Don’t tease me with promises of that, Livvy love.”

“I’m not teasing. Are we almost there? I always get lost downtown.”

“Almost,” he said, making a sharp and impatient right hand turn onto West Addison. The hotel was just a couple blocks away now. He pulled up to the valet and tossed his keys to the kid.

The boy who caught them couldn’t have been more than twenty and his eyes widened. “You’re Adam Burish.”

“Naw, that guy is a clown,” he told the kid.

Liv slipped out of the passenger side right as Adam got there to grab her waist and set her on the ground. “I’ve got legs. You don’t have to lift me out of the truck,” she said.

“Just looking for an excuse to touch you. Come on before I get caught signing autographs. I think you said something about a shower that might involve me and you at the same time.”

She giggled as he pulled her into the hotel lobby. It was practically chilly compared to the muggy air outside. The elevator was waiting for them, and they rode it up to their floor. Adam fumbled with the keycard while she laughed at him for being so eager.

“Hey, I’ve been dying to see you naked,” he said, opening the door and letting her go in first.

“Wait, I was going to wear my swimsuit,” she replied, flipping the light on. When she turned around, his face had fallen and his eyes looked like a puppy’s that had just been kicked. “I was kidding, Adam. I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

Relief washed over his face. It was so obvious it was almost comical. “Stop teasing me,” he said, reaching out to grab her.

Liv squealed and spun to the side, evading him easily. “You’re slower than you used to be, Burish.” She bent over to pull off her boots and when she looked back up, he had fire in his eyes. It was intimidating to be the focus of that kind of intensity. “You going to turn the shower on? I want room temperature water. Nothing too hot or cold.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied as he moved toward the bathroom door. After she put the boots by her luggage and let her hair down out of the ponytail, she ventured into the bathroom. He was already in his underwear and leaning over to check the water temperature with his outstretched hand.

“You still have the best ass in the league,” she said.

His chuckle was music to her ears as he stood up and looked at her. “You sure you want to get naked with me?”

“Are you going to be a gentleman?”

“With you? Always. Need any help getting out of that dress, Livvy love?”

She nodded and watched him walk around behind her. All she could see were strong thighs, a hard chest, and a thick budge in his boxer briefs. His gentle hands slid the zipper down her back so she could let the dress fall down her arms and pool around her waist. Without a word, he unhooked the white, lace bra so she could pull it off while he pushed the fabric of the dress over her hips. Now she was just in her panties and his mouth was on her neck, sucking and licking and kissing her.

“Adam,” she whispered. “Shower.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled against her skin. “Got distracted.” He hooked his thumbs in the hips of her panties and slowly pulled them down her legs until she could step out of them, holding onto his shoulder for balance.

He’d seen her naked before plenty of times, but this felt like the first time again. That little butterfly fluttering around in her stomach made her feel weak and excited and sexy. Without turning to face him, she stepped into the shower and backed up into the spray, letting the water soak her hair and run down her body to wash away all the sweat.

“Liv.” His voice was rough. She opened her eyes to see him standing in front of her, naked as the day he was born. He was staring at the way the water ran in rivulets over her shoulders, down her breasts and stomach, grazing her mound before it traveled over the muscles of her legs to spiral down the drain.

Her eyes dropped and took in his cock, already rock-hard from the looks of it. She wanted to lower herself to her knees and suck him almost as much as she wanted him to fuck her against the wall of the shower. He’d do it if she asked. Hell, the way he was looking at her, he might do it whether she asked or not.

“Can I touch you?” he asked.

Liv laughed softly. “I think we’re beyond you having to ask that now.”

His strong hands were all over her, starting at her hips and then skimming up her waist until he brought them over to cup her breasts. His thumbs teased her nipples until they had tightened, aching with each stroke he gave them. When he pulled his hands away to reach for the little bottle of shampoo, she almost cried out in protest.

Instead, she practically purred as he gently worked the shampoo into her long hair, staring at her scalp and moving down to the ends of her hair. She rinsed it out and worked in some conditioner while he lathered up a bar of soap and started running it over her body.

“Adam,” she gasped as he lightly ran his fingertips over the mound of her pussy.

“Did that feel good?” he asked with a devilish grin playing on his face. She reached down and gave his cock a slow stroke with her hand.

He made a choked noise in the back of his throat. “Did that?” she replied.

“You know it did, sweetheart,” he whispered as he pushed her back into the spray to get the soap and conditioner off her.

Once she was rinsed off, Liv squeezed past him and dumped some shampoo in her hand. “Your turn,” she said, massaging it into his damp hair. He let her wash his hair and lather up his body while the shower head rinsed everything down the drain. She avoided his cock because she wanted to get to that massive bed in the next room instead of having their second first time be in the bathroom of a hotel.

He stepped out of the shower first and was holding a towel for her when she followed. Liv smiled and closed her eyes as he wrapped the plush white towel around her body. His arms wrapped around her as well. It felt right to be here with him, even after all this time, even after the heartbreak. She trusted him. That was one of the most important things in any relationship, and the hardest thing to get back after a betrayal. If they could get through that, then they could probably get through anything.

Liv let him dry off her body before she took the towel from his hands and squeezed the water out of her hair. When she looked up into the mirror over the vanity, he was behind her, drying himself off. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked at his wide shoulders and muscular arms, his smooth chest and the outline of abdominal muscles on this lower stomach. His lower body wasn’t visible, but it didn’t need to be. She remembered his powerful thighs and his toned calves and his perfect cock that always seemed to be up to pleasing her.

Adam’s hair was dripping water down on his shoulders and his blue eyes were wide as he took in her reflection. She dropped the towel on the floor and slipped her arms over his shoulders and around his neck. His strong hands settled on her hips, and he tilted his head down to kiss her.

“I want you to take me to bed,” Liv whispered against his lips. She glided her hands down his chest so she could grab his right hand and pull him out of the bathroom, leading him over to the king size bed in the middle of the bedroom. The room was lit by ambient city light from the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. They were up too high for anyone to see the naked couple climbing into bed together.

Adam pushed her down into the mattress, his hands a little rough as they betrayed his eagerness. She didn’t mind, though. He was always equal parts forceful and playful. “Tell me if you want to stop,” he murmured before he ran the tip of his tongue down the valley between her breasts.

Her pussy felt like it was aching with need, and it was probably soaking wet after having his hands all over her in the shower. “Don’t stop,” Liv whispered, raking her nails across his scalp, untangling his wet hair in the process.

He moved down her body and nipped at the skin on her left hip before putting his hands on her inner thighs and forcing her to spread further for him. It took every ounce of willpower in her body not to buck her hips off the mattress and beg him to touch her. He did her one better, though. Instead of slipping a finger inside, he dipped his head down and slipped his tongue inside instead.

“Adam!” she gasped, throwing her legs over his shoulders in an attempt to squeeze her thighs together and stop the overwhelming pleasure of having his mouth on her.

“Mmm,” he replied, nudging the tip of his tongue up against her engorged nub. “I forgot how good you taste.”

“Stop, I need you inside me.”

He lifted his head and looked her in the eyes. “I want to hear you come first.” That said, he buried his face in her stomach, nipping and licking until she was squirming mostly because she was ticklish, but partly because his mouth was close enough to her pussy that she kept waiting for his slick tongue to fuck her. With both her hands on his head, she urged him lower.

Adam chuckled darkly as he obliged and slowly traced her lower lips with his tongue before he dipped inside again. “You were always so ready for me,” he whispered against her thigh.

“You always knew what to do to get me hot. You still do.”

He lifted himself up and settled between her legs. It only took a moment with his hand guiding his cock before he was settled deep inside her. The sensation almost ripped the breath out of her lungs. Suddenly, her aching sex was filled up with him, and he was rocking into her, moving without pulling out.

“I thought I was supposed to come first,” Liv finally managed to say.

Adam grinned before he peppered kisses over her forehead and cheeks. “You telling me that I’ve always been able to get you hot was a low blow. I couldn’t stop myself. You feel so fucking good, Liv.”

“So do you,” she murmured as she threw her head back. He was thrusting slowly, twisting his hips just right. Those three years disappeared with one stroke, and it was just like he’d always had her like this. “Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”

“I won’t, sweetheart. Just you and me. I love you so much.”

Liv opened her eyes to see his blue ones looking down at her. The look in his eyes was overwhelming. “I love you back, Adam.”

He laced his fingers in her hair, tilting her head back slightly so she could only see his face as he moved in and out of her. Liv had to swallow the swelling emotion that was overtaking her chest and then her throat. The last thing she needed to do was burst into tears while they were making love for the first time in years.

“Please take me back, Livvy love. Please. I’ll beg. I’ll do anything you want. I need you.”

As much as his pleas tugged at her heartstrings, she still had to laugh. “Oh, Adam. I took you back a long time ago. I just needed some time to adjust.”

He worked one arm underneath her body while the other hand snaked in between them so he could stroke her clit. It didn’t take much because he knew exactly what she liked. After dipping his thumb inside her just barely, he rubbed her juices against her clit, light at first and then, as he came around full circle, just a bit harder. Liv cried out and clutched at his shoulders. Normally the intensity of it led her to slam her eyes closed, but this time she kept them open and watched him as he watched her.

Liv held on tightly to him as he sped up, thrusting into her over and over again, never letting his eyes break away from hers. His strong arms gathered her up and pulled her up against him as he fell apart against her. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he murmured. “Please don’t leave me again.”

She buried her hands in his hair and pulled his face down to rest in the cradle of her neck and shoulder. “Please don’t make me leave you.”

“God, Liv. I won’t. I swear on my life that I won’t.” The way his lips moved against her skin and the sensation of his softening cock still inside her ignited the little flame of desire in her belly. We probably won't get much sleep tonight, she thought as she hooked her leg over his hip and dug her heel into his perfect ass.

* * *

{Present Day, Mid-July 2013}

He was walking on air all Sunday. Despite the hassle of the airline losing his bag on the flight back to San Jose or having to leave Liv at her apartment while he went back over to his place to meet the the delivery driver who had his new bed, he still felt like it was one of the best days of his life. Three years and he’d finally gotten her back--something he thought never would have happened.

The bed had been purchased the day before they left for Chicago and was due to be delivered Sunday afternoon. He was cutting it close after he dropped her at her place and hurried home to let them in so they could carry off the old bed and set up the new one--the one he’d insisted on since she wanted the oversized, padded footboard. As soon as they switched the beds out, he was going to go make her pack a bag so he could break the new one in with her. She’d probably need to pack most of her apartment because he didn’t think sleeping in separate beds was going to be something he was willing to do from now on. Or he could stay at her place. The longer commute to the gym and to work when the season started would be worth it if he could come home to her.

As soon as the two men were done assembling his new bed, he called Liv.

“I just saw you a couple hours ago,” she told him when she picked up.

“I’m going through withdrawal. Do you want to come see our new bed?”

“Our bed?” she asked with a soft laugh.

“Our bed,” Adam confirmed.

“Do you mean do I want to come over and sleep in it tonight?”

“And maybe do other things.”

Her chuckle was sexy and went straight to his dick. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be over around six. I just need to pack an overnight bag.”

“I’ll come pick you up.”

“You will not. I’ve got to work tomorrow. I’ll be over in a few.” Her voice was playful. He’d missed this so much.

“Don’t pack any pajamas because you know I’m not going to let you wear them.”

Liv laughed again. “Shut it up, Adam. Our bed better have a padded footboard I can sit on.”

“Come see,” he replied before hanging up.

True to her word, she knocked on the door right before six. He’d just gotten back home himself since he’d gone to pick up dinner.

“Where is this fantastic bed?” she asked slipping past him and dropping her overnight bag on the floor.

Adam grinned as he came up behind her and grabbed her around the waist, swinging her around. “Let me show you,” he replied, pulling her against him and backing her toward the bedroom.

“I missed you,” she whispered.

He kissed her as they cleared the doorway to the bedroom. “It’s just been a few hours since I left you.”

“Mmm, still missed you,” she whispered, kissing him back before she caught his bottom lip between her teeth.

Adam didn’t consciously remember helping her strip off her clothes, but within a few seconds, she was standing at the foot of the bed in her bra and panties. “You listened,” she said, running her hand along the strange-looking footboard. It was about eight inches deep and padded with cream-colored fabric.

“Is it what you wanted, sweetheart?” he asked, wrapping his arms around her from behind and kissing her exposed neck.

“It’s perfect.”

“Good, now get on the bed. I think we need to test the mattress.”

She crawled over the low footboard and into the middle of the bed, giving him a nice view of the little black panties she had on underneath her shorts as they stretched over her ass. He flipped his shirt over his head right before he unbuttoned his shorts and let them drop to the floor.

Liv was still on her hands and knees when she looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Are you not coming?”

“Oh, I’m coming.” They’d both be coming really soon if he had any say in it. Crawling up behind her, he draped his body over hers. She dropped down and rolled over, pulling him down on top of her. “Feisty,” he teased, pushing her bra up to expose her tits. She wiggled her arm underneath her back to undo the clasp while he licked and sucked on her nipples. It took her a little longer than she would have liked to get the lingerie off; he could hear her little noises of frustration mixed with the soft moans of pleasure at what his mouth was doing to her.

“I need you to get naked,” she whispered, using her hands in his hair to pull him away from her chest.

Adam rolled off her and onto his back so he could lift his hips up and pull his underwear down. Before he could reach out for her again, she had her panties in her hand and was throwing a leg over his waist to straddle him. “Damn, Liv,” he muttered, running his eyes from her mound all the way up her flat stomach to her perfect tits to the way her brown hair fell around her face as she tilted her head down to look at him with heat in her eyes.

“Remember how Lisa Lopes from TLC burned down her boyfriend’s million dollar house when she found out he was cheating on her?”

Adam’s eyes widened. What was she talking about? His cock was in her fist, and she was guiding him inside her. “Yeah,” he replied, watching her settle down on his length, feeling the heat of her pussy surrounding every inch of him. “Yeah, I remember. Why?”

“You screw up again and I can’t promise I won’t do that,” she said with a smirk.

He grinned back. She was fucking with him. “Sweetheart, it’ll never happen again. I swear. You don’t have to burn down anything. I...” His brain stopped working as she leaned forward, planting her hands on either side of his head. A shift of her hips and she moved forward, her tits just a few inches from his face as his cock slid out of her. When she pushed back and took him inside completely, he grabbed her waist.

“I like the way you feel like this,” she said in that breathless, sexy voice.

Adam couldn’t help himself. When she pushed back again, he lifted his hips and entered her with more force than she could have managed on her own. It ripped a soft, wordless cry from her lips. “I like the way you feel anyway, anyhow, anytime,” he whispered into her ear.

Each time she came forward, she brushed her lips over his. After a few passes, Adam had had enough. He buried a hand in her hair and gripped tight enough to hold her head still for him to kiss her properly, flicking his tongue between her plump lips. At the same time, he pumped his hips up into her. The hand on her waist dropped lower so he could press a clumsy thumb against her clit. He was too excited to work her with finesse, but that didn’t seem to matter. After a couple strokes and rough jerks of his hips up into her, she shuddered against him, sobbing her pleasure into his open mouth.

After her tight body loosened and draped softly over his, she pulled in a deep breath that just screamed satisfaction. And then her little hands were on his chest, pushing her body upright so she could circle her hips slowly. The motion tightened the muscles that were gripping his cock, and he dug his fingertips into her hips, bringing his knees up behind her to give her leverage. When she felt the support his legs gave her, she took her hands off his chest and cupped her breasts, pinching her nipples between her thumbs and forefingers.

“Liv, you’re going to make me crazy,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I want to feel you come for me,” she replied, looking down into his eyes.

The way her hips were moving and the look in her eyes when she told him what she wanted sent him over the edge. He bucked his hips up off the bed and emptied himself deep inside her, never once breaking his gaze away from hers. Adam felt naked and vulnerable and indescribably happy he had his girl back. His one. Maybe they could go visit his parents before the season started. Maybe they could see her parents too.

Liv was on top of him, her chest pressed against his and her face buried in his neck. “What’s for dinner?”

“Sushi. I found a good place. It reminds me of the place down the street from your apartment in Chicago.”

“Ugg, stop being so perfect,” she said. He could feel her smile against the skin of his neck.

* * *

{Present Day, Late-August 2013}

“So, the big meeting, huh? Your mom like her?” Sharpie sounded amused. More amused that Adam liked. He felt like Sharpie’s kid brother who just got his first serious girlfriend and was going through all the rights of passage that every other guy his age went through years ago.

“It was good. I think my mom is already planning the wedding. She and my sister took Liv out shopping, God knows where. They’ve been gone for five hours. I’m worried they’re coming up with some huge prank to play on me.”

Sharpie chuckled. “I’m happy for you, Burr.”

“I bought a ring a few days ago before we flew to Michigan to visit her folks and then here to visit mine.” It was like verbal diarrhea; the words just tumbled out of his mouth without any control. He hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that.

Sharpie was quiet for a moment, and then his voice came through the speaker of Adam’s phone. “What are you waiting for?” 

“Shit, I don’t know. I’m afraid she’ll tell me no. Ask Abby if she’ll tell me no. Wait, never mind. Don’t do that.”

It was too late, the phone was already rustling against what was probably the fabric of Sharpie’s shirt. “Hey, baby?” His muffled voice was still audible. “Burr wants to know if you think Liv will tell him to take a hike if he asks her to marry him.”

Adam cringed. He felt like such a loser. He was asking his friend to ask his wife if she thought his girlfriend would turn him down.

“She said no.”

“She thinks Liv will say no?”

Instead of a response, he just heard shuffling and then Abby’s sweet voice, clear as a bell, say, “Are you going to man up and ask her to marry you for real?”

“You can’t say anything to her.”

Abby chuckled. “Oh, I won’t. But are you serious about it?”

“So serious. Is she going to tell me to fuck off?”

“No, she loves you.”

“So, you think she’ll say yes?”

“Probably. Why don’t you ask her as see?”

Adam felt emboldened. Abby was one of Liv’s closest friends. She’d know if Liv had any misgivings about him. “Maybe I will. Put Sharpie back on and stop nosing in my business.”

“Your family fall in love with her?” Abby asked instead.

“Yeah. She’s out shopping with my mom and sister. I don’t trust the three of them together.”

“How’d things go with her parents?”

“Good. Her dad took me golfing. She never told them about me and what happened, did she?”

Abby was silent for a couple heartbeats. “No, she never told them. She didn’t tell many people she dated you because she didn’t want to cause trouble and you were always so intent on keeping it hush hush because of the media.”

“That was my mistake. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Hey,” Abby said, “works in your favor. Her parents don’t think you’re an asshole who cheated on their daughter.”

Adam felt that twinge in his chest every time that massive error in judgement was brought up. “Think you can cut me some slack now that she’s forgiven me?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Abby replied. “You did good, Adam. Keep it up and I’ll even come to the wedding.”

He shook his head. “If she says yes.”

“She will. Hold on and let me get your boyfriend Pat back so you can say goodnight.”

* * *

{Present Day, Early-September 2013}

Liv laughed when she felt his arms go around her as soon as they walked into her apartment. Adam wrapped her up in a hug from behind. His lips brushed across her earlobe when he whispered, “What do you think? Do you like any of them?”

They had spent all Sunday afternoon looking at houses. She tried to keep her comments and opinions to herself because he was the one buying the house, not her, but Adam wouldn’t seem to let it go; he kept insisting she give her opinion.

“Adam, it’s going to be your house. It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“Our house,” he corrected. “Someday. Don’t doubt that I’m going to make an honest woman out of you.”

Liv ducked out of his embrace and rolled her eyes while she smiled up at him. “Sure, sure. When pigs fly.”

“What? You think I’m bluffing?” he asked as he lunged forward and pulled her into his arms again, pressing his lips against hers and cheating his tongue inside when she opened her mouth to protest. Liv melted into him, letting him take the lead and direct the kiss. They were probably going to end up in her bed before dinner. It felt like they were both trying to make up for missed time.

Things had been good for the past six weeks. Really good. They hadn’t spent a night apart and her parents had loved him. Her mother almost adopted him right on the spot when they showed up at the airport and Adam insisted on carrying all of Liv’s bags. He was, according to her mother, a keeper. Liv thought so, too.

After they had spent a few days at her parents’ house in Michigan, they flew to Madison to spent five days with his family. Liv had spent most of the time looking at the wide eyes of his mom and sister like he’d never brought a girl home before. It wasn’t until the day before they left when she went shopping with them that his sister had said something about Liv being the first girl Adam had introduced to them. “We were beginning to think he’d never settle down,” his mom had said, shaking her head.

It felt strange to be thrust from one extreme to another--months of being alone without any serious prospects on the horizon, and then right into a full-fledged relationship that seemed to have picked up almost where it left off three years before. Almost, but not quite. Adam was different now, more willing to sacrifice for her, more interested in her needs. Not that he hadn’t been when they were together back then, but there was a maturity about him now that Liv hadn’t thought she’d ever see. Maybe a good dose of heartache was what made you grow up fast.

“Of course I think you’re bluffing,” she replied when he moved his lips to her neck and started pulling her further into the apartment, toward the bedroom.

“I’m not,” he whispered. “You’ll see.” He kissed her again as they crossed the threshold of her bedroom. The curtains were drawn and the room was dark even though it was sunny outside. “Which house did you like?”

“They were all beautiful,” Liv replied. "Which was your favorite?" She pushed her hands up beneath the hem of his shirt.

"The one you want to be in," he replied without missing a beat.

Liv chuckled and helped him out of his shirt. He had been acting a bit strange since they got back from Madison a few days before. She wondered if her meeting his family had hit a switch in him, made him start acting especially romantic since she'd gotten along with his family. He'd been making little jokes in a roundabout way about marriage. She wasn't sure how to take him because she'd always assumed Adam was not the marrying kind. At first it hadn't bothered her because marriage wasn't something she felt was a deal breaker; you could have a fantastic relationship without a piece of paper. Nowadays, though, she'd started longing for it. When she'd taken him back and they'd started officially dating again, she had shoved that desire down deep because she'd rather have him than marriage.

Adam popped the button on her jeans and slid the zipper down so he could wiggle a hand down the front of her panties and cup her in his hand. His middle finger dipped inside her before he curled it up and grazed her clit. "Come on, tell me which one was your favorite. If you don't, I'm going to make you go look at five more with me."

She rushed to undo his fly because at this rate she was going to come all over his hand before she could get him into the bed. "The second one was nice. A little big, but the pool in the backyard was amazing and the kitchen was gorgeous."

"If I bought it, would you move in?"

His pants were undone and riding low on his hips, but she'd moved her hand up to grab his arms as he worked her, manipulating her easily because he knew just how to move his fingers, just what she liked. "You can't get me to move in with you by buying a pretty house."

"Which one did you really like, Livvy love," he whispered as he pulled his hand out of her jeans and pushed her back on the bed so he he could flip her sandals off. He jerked the jeans and her panties down her legs in one smooth motion.

Liv yanked the blouse over her head and unhooked her bra before she pushed herself further up the bed. "I told you I like the second one."

"You think I like the second one. Stop fibbing," he replied, pushing his jeans down and losing the boxers too. He was already hard. Liv couldn't stop herself from pushing up onto her hands and knees and crawling over to the edge of the bed where he was standing. Looking up at him through her lashes, she took his cock into her mouth until he hit the back of her throat.

"Mmm," she said, backing off and then sucking him into her mouth again.

Adam buried his hands into her hair. When she lifted her gaze again, he was watching her with heat in his eyes, holding her hair back so he could see the way she looked while she was sucking him. "Don't think this is getting out of answering the question, sweetheart. Temporary distraction."

Instead of replying, she just kept going. One of his hands moved down her back, his fingers splayed. As he moved them back up her spine, he dug his fingertips into her skin. If he'd had nails like her, then she'd have red scratches from the middle of her back all the way up to her neck. But he didn't; it just felt like a nice massage.

"Livvy, stop. I want to be inside you." His voice was rough and breathy.

She let him pop out of her mouth. The second she did, he was on her, flipping her onto her back and down into the mattress as he spread her legs and lined himself up. Every time he took her fast like this, he always took her breath away. She gasped as his cock filled up every single bit of her and then some. "God, Adam," she whispered. "That feels so good."

He was practically lying on top of her, his elbows planted on either side of her head and his hands in her hair. "Which house, sweetheart?"

"I told you," she moaned, lifting her hips up to bump against his as he moved in and out.

"Which one do you really like?"

If she weren't close to an orgasm, she would have laughed. But right now, with the way he was holding her down, his fingers tight in her hair and his cock deep inside her, she couldn't laugh. "The fourth one. The one with the gazebo in the corner of the backyard and the oversized clawfoot tub in the master bath."

Adam grinned and slowed down enough to grind into her. "See, that wasn't hard. How much do you like it?"

"The house or what you're doing to me?" she was grasping onto his shoulders as he picked up his speed again.

"The house."

"I love it," she replied.

Adam lifted himself up and guided both her legs over his shoulders. The angle made her toes curl all on its own, but with his thumb pressing down on her clit, she was close to blacking out. "Adam, don't stop."

"What about what I'm doing to you? How much do you like it?" His hair was falling into his face as he thrust into her, pushing her up closer to the headboard, inch by inch.

"I fucking love it," she choked out before she felt that familiar wave cresting in her body. He never had to work too much to make her come so hard she screamed. This time she screamed his name right as she felt her muscles tighten up. He never broke their locked gazes as he followed her down and came with a strangled grunt of her name and a sharp jerk of his hips.

Liv’s legs felt like jelly as they slipped off his shoulders. Adam rolled onto his back and pulled her on top so he wouldn’t crush her. It was just another one of the many things he did that she felt was perfect and so Adam. Liv kissed him before laying her head on his chest and raking her nails lazily through his hair and against his scalp.

“Mmm, that feels good,” he murmured, tightening his arms around her. “So, the one on that quiet street in Willow Glen?”

“You coerced that out of me,” Liv replied, pinching his nipple.

Adam jerked and playfully slapped her hand away. “Did you really love it?”

She lifted her head off his chest and looked at his face--at how relaxed and happy he looked with her pillow bunched up underneath him. “I did.”

“I’ll put in an offer. Maybe we can get it before the season starts.”

Giggling, she rolled off him and knelt on the bed beside his body. “You can’t buy a house just like that. You need to think about it.”

Adam squinted his eyes and scrunched his nose up. “Hmmmmm,” he hummed. “I thought about it and I’ll put an offer in.”

“You’ve lost your mind.”

“Have not,” he replied, running a hand up her stomach until he could cup her left breast. “I’m going to miss you when I have to go out of town this coming season.”

“I’ll miss you, too.”

“Can I do anything to help you be more comfortable with that? Anything to make it more transparent?” His eyes here wide and serious. And her heart throbbed for him because he was trying to understand her situation and her insecurities.

She bent over and pushed his hair behind his ear. “We’ll play it by ear. Just be honest with me and keep the partying to a minimum.”

“I think I’ll probably be in the hotel room trying to figure out how to do that webcam sex thing with you,” he replied, sitting up and kissing her.

She thought he was just going in for a peck, but when his hand cupped the base of her skull and his tongue pressed between her lips, she gave in. Skype sex was better than no sex, but she would long for him to be back in her bed as soon as he left.

“Hey,” Adam said, pulling away and pushing himself out of bed, smacking her ass as he did so, “get some clothes on so I can show you something.”

She tilted her head and smiled as she watched him pull on his jeans, no underwear underneath. She’d have to keep that in mind for later in the evening. “What are you showing me?” she asked. Her closet was a disaster because she hadn’t done laundry or unpacked since they got back into San Jose. She grabbed his Blackhawks jersey--the one he’d signed for her--and slipped it on over her head.

There was music coming from the living room. It was Lee Brice. Specifically, it was the romantic little song she loved at the beginning of his latest album. Lee was singing about all the things he would have if he were single, and then he explained why he didn’t really want any of them without his wife--that if he were single, he’d just be out there looking for a woman like her. It always made Liv swoon to hear it.

When she came out of the bedroom to find him, he smiled at her choice of clothing. “You look so sexy in that. But that might be partly because I just had amazing sex with you and your hair is all messy and hot.”

Liv lightly punched his shoulder and looked behind him. He had a guitar leaned up against the back of the couch. “Ooh, are you going to play me a song?”

“Maybe,” he said with a nervous grin.

“Whatcha gonna play?” Liv asked, winking at him.

“Sit down in the chair,” he replied, nodding at the armchair across from the couch.

She did as he’d asked and watch him wipe sweaty palms against the legs of his jeans before picking the guitar up and sitting on the edge of the couch. He looked edible, sitting there in blue jeans without a shirt on, holding a guitar with his unruly hair flopping over his ears when he bent forward to adjust his fingers on the fretboard.

“Can you play number five?” he asked, nodding at the remote for the stereo on the table beside her. She hit skip twice and let the fifth song play as she narrowed her eyes at him. She’d heard this album many times, and she knew number five by heart.

As the song started, he faltered with the guitar and had to catch up to the beat. By the time the vocals started, he was back on track and softly singing the lyrics to her. The stereo was turned down, so she could easily hear his awkward strumming and the beautiful, slightly gruff voice he always tried to hide.

“I know you’re thinking that you’ve got me all figured out. A music man like me ain’t ever gonna settle down. And you’re just waiting around for the day that you’re convinced ain’t ever gonna come. And just that thought of wedding bells would make me wanna run away. But all I can say is don’t believe everything you think. Baby, I might just have a ring in my pocket right now. So settle on down girl. Reel that wild imagination in. Baby, come on back to me again. Oh, the mind’s a funny thing. Don’t believe everything you think.”

Liv tilted her head to the side and smiled at him, but she knew the smile wasn’t hiding the confusion on her face at his choice of song. Why this song? He looked nervous, on the verge of fear, and he was trying like hell to keep up with the song as he botched the strumming that led into the second verse. He laughed softly and dipped his head as he caught up again and glanced into her eyes as he started the next verse.

“Every time another pretty girl comes walking by I see your wheels turning the way you watch my eyes. Girl, I don’t know why you let it cross your mind that I ain’t crazy over you and I don’t want all the very same things you do, babe. ‘Cause all I’m gonna say is don’t believe everything you think. Baby, I might just have a ring in my pocket right now so settle on down, girl.”

He stopped and let the track continue playing on its own. “I’m not very good that that,” Adam said with another nervous laugh.

She shook her head at him and smiled. “You’re better than you think. One of your favorite songs?”

He stood up and walked over to her. When he was standing a few inches from her knees, he picked her hand up off her lap and placed it against his hip, gliding her fingertips over a bulge in his pocket. It wasn’t the usual bulge she felt in his jeans. Lee Brice was singing about having a ring in his pocket and suddenly Liv couldn’t breathe.

“Adam,” she she said, looking up at him, eyes wide and surprise all over her face.

“Livvy love,” he replied, letting her hand drop and digging his into the pocket. Whatever he’d retrieved was folded into his palm. She made to stand up because she didn’t know what else to do when all signs were pointing toward him doing something incredibly crazy and incredibly out-of-character. She’d thought this wasn’t his thing. She’d resigned herself to the fact that this wasn’t going to happen. Adam dropped to one knee and suddenly she didn’t have the ability to stand up.

“What are you doing?” she whispered, looking down at his terrified face. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to prove anything.”

“You think I’m doing it because I have to? I’m doing it because I want to.”

“Adam.” Her voice sounded far away. The room felt far away. He was holding out an open jewelry box with a gorgeous diamond solitaire that was probably worth more than every car she’d ever own, combined.

“I’m crazy nervous, sweetheart. I need you to say yes when I ask you this question.”

She felt the tears burning in her eyes. He looked so vulnerable there, looking up at her with those blue eyes. Everything he was feeling was written plain on his face. “Ask it before all my mascara runs down my face,” she told him with a laugh that sounded more like a sob.

“I know I’m not the easiest guy to love, and I haven’t always treated you the way you deserve, but if the past few years and the past few months have taught me anything, it’s that I need you in my life. Beyonce said that if I like it then I should put a ring on it.”

Liv choked back a snort of laughter.

“And when I realized that I loved it, then I figured I needed to put a ring on it as soon as I could get up the nerve to ask you. We’ve been dancing around this for a while, so will you marry me, Livvy love? Please?”

She threw herself at him with such force that he fell backward into the floor and she landed on top. “You are a crazy person,” she told him before she pressed her lips against his.

Adam’s hands came up to take hold of her shoulders and push her off him. “Was that a yes or a no?”

“It’s a yes,” she said. “Of course it’s a yes.”

“Oh, thank God,” he whispered, grabbing the back of her head and pulling her down into a deep kiss.

When they pulled back from the kiss, Adam sat up while Liv knelt in front of him. With shaking hands, he slipped the ring on her finger and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand.

“Is this why you made me pick the house?” she asked.

Adam grinned. “Maybe.”

THE END


End file.
